Of Guilt, Sin and Apples
by wickedambiguity
Summary: Jayne and River share an understanding and an apple... Which leads to misunderstandings, sweet moments, eventual violence and the possibility that Jayne might someday become a better man.
1. Chapter 1

The first time he'd _thought_ of touching her, he'd imagined wrapping one hand around that skinny throat and squeezing the life out of her.

The first time he _had_ touched her, he'd backhanded her to the floor, after she'd cut him in the mess.

The second time had been on Ariel, when he'd wrapped his arm around her to keep her in her chair, while the doc had saved some lucky bastard's life. When the doc had returned to their side after the life saving episode, and he'd released her, she'd looked up at him with those big brown eyes and smiled.

And then, the third time in the imaging room, when she'd suddenly opened her eyes and screamed.

Third time lucky.

When he'd put his hand over her mouth, he'd covered damn near half of her face with his big paw. His hand had flexed, feeling her there, breathing against it. He'd felt guilty for the first time in his adult life.

Now, of course, back on the boat, out in the black, he had no use for her. Especially since he knew she knew what he'd done. He'd be happy never to see her again. Still. Every time he _did_ see her, he felt her breath against the palm of his hand. It was unnerving. And he saw her everywhere.

She floated around Serenity like a ghost, everywhere and nowhere, all the time. At communal meals, she often sat next to him, eating off his plate as often as not. He said nothing and let it continue. When he worked out, he sensed her eyes on him. Sometimes he was able to find her lurking in some shadow overhead, sometimes not. When he walked the corridors of the ship, as all of them sometimes did, he usually managed to run across her. He did his best to just step around her and keep moving. This time was different.

As he stepped around her on the catwalk that ran over the top of Serenity's main holding bay, she put out her hand and caught him on the shin. He froze in mid-step. Then he pulled his leg out of her weak grasp, and made to walk on, ignoring her as best he could.

Her voice pulled him back. "You'll never do it," she said in that whispery voice she had.

He turned back to her and looked down at the crown of her head where she sat on the edge of the catwalk, her legs dangling.

"What?" he asked, gruffly.

"Never do it, I said," she repeated.

"Never do _what_?"

"Never forget what you did." She looked up at him. "It won't let you."

He shook his head. "You're crazy," he said. "And we got nothin' to talk about." He made as if to continue his walk, and then hesitated.

She arched an eyebrow at him and smiled that knowing smile.

"_What_?" he demanded, frustrated.

She stared down into the darkened bay, her mona lisa smile fading. "Go on," she said. "I can still be invisible if that's what you want."

He rolled his eyes and stomped away, muttering.

Later, in his bunk, he re-lived the short conversation with her, unconsciously rubbing his palm as if it itched. He still felt her there, breathing.

What the hell was that crazy brat trying to say to him, he wondered. Why wouldn't she just leave him alone?

He felt the urge to go down into the bay and work out, but hesitated, knowing she would probably be there. Then he checked his chrono, and smiled to himself. Actually, now would be the best time, while everyone slept. Far as he could tell, that brother of hers kept her doped to the gills at night, probably to keep her from wandering around the ship and crashing them into some random planet.

So, down he went. At some point between the countless reps, he sat up on the bench and took a look around. Seeing no one, he pulled his shirt off and continued. The mostly-healed mark across his chest stung a bit, his sweat running into it, and he rubbed that itchy hand across it, feeling his muscles flex.

"Yeah," he thought. "this is what I am. Just this. The muscle." And the thought bolstered him. He wasn't required to think at all beyond his own survival. Thinking wasn't his strong suit, and he knew it. That was Mal and Zoe's job. _He_ was the muscle.

Endorphins poured though him, bringing him the rush and the comfort that he craved. His plan for the night was simple. Tire himself out, wander down to the mess for a bite to eat, then head to his bunk for a shot of whiskey and a good night's sleep.

At least, that was the plan.

Eventually, he shelved the free weights and sat up on the bench, panting heavily – only to find her standing there in the half-dark at his feet. Just standing.

He nearly came out of his skin.

"_Gorramit_, girl!" he snarled. "What the _hell_ are you doin' down here in the middle of the night?"

When she said nothing, just stood there in her white shift, he growled wordlessly, then snatched up his shirt from the floor and stalked past her, headed directly for his bunk.

Damned if he could go down to the mess _now_, he thought, irritated.

Five steps away, he heard her thready voice in the gloom. "The tattle you told doesn't hurt us, you know," she said conversationally.

He stopped in his tracks, shirt clenched in his hand as tightly as the muscles in his back. In his other hand, he felt her breath against his palm. He heard her as she crept up behind him, her bare feet nearly but not quite silent on the metal floor.

Then: "Children get excited sometimes," she said, "and then they tell secrets. But it's not important, you should realize that."

Jayne ground his teeth together, and turned back to find her nearer than he'd anticipated. The words jumped from his mouth unbidden. "It wasn't right," he said rustily. "What I did." His hand tightened around the phantom of her breath. "I can't go back and change it."

"I'm not here to discuss quantum mechanics," she replied, in one of those eerie moments of seeming lucidity.

His eyes narrowed, staring down at her. "Then what do you want?" he asked, tired of her riddles.

River stared up into his ice blue eyes, her own eyes glassy, her pupils huge in the gloom.

"Forgiveness," she whispered. "For you, from you."

He was stumped, as usual.

"Forgiveness?" He shook his head in frustration. "Look," he said, "why don't you just leave me alone? Huh?"

She continued to stare up at him for a moment, her eyes wide. Then she took on a more feral look, her eye jaw squaring, her eyes narrowing. "Stop screaming at me, then," she answered him challengingly. "Your voice is deafening me!"

"_Me_?" he finally yelled. "I ain't never raised my voice to you, _EVER_!"

River covered her ears with her hands, then sank abruptly to her knees. "You're burning me up from the inside!" she cried.

And suddenly, like the proverbial light bulb going on over his head, Jayne understood her. _Forgiveness_, she'd said. _From you, for you…_

She was feeling _his_ guilt, the gut-churning shame he felt over turning the two of them in to the Feds. It creeped him out, but it sent a streak of pity through him too. Imagine not being able to filter out… _anything_.

He shifted from foot to foot, staring down at her crouching at his feet in the near darkness, her whimpering drilling into him like bullets. He felt helpless, as he rarely did. Usually, when a problem presented itself, he either shot it or walked away.

Without forethought, he leaned over her and patted her shoulder awkwardly. "C'mon, now," he said gruffly. "It ain't all that bad… Stop cryin', now…"

When she didn't respond, he knelt next to her, his hand still on her shoulder.

"River," he said, then stopped. It occurred to him that he had never said her name, had never thought of her by it – had tried like hell not to let her have one in his mind. Having a name made you a person – and he didn't want her to be one. He just wanted her to be a problem, to be shot or walked away from. And now she wasn't.

He sighed.

She turned her tear-glazed eyes up to his, and the confusion in them only made him feel worse. She didn't know any more about her state of mind than he did, he realized.

His hand tightened slightly on her shoulder. "C'mon, then," he said, meaning to help her to her feet and take her to her brother, who could surely help her.

Instead, she launched herself at him, and he found himself abruptly at the center of the storm, her cheek pressed against his bare chest, over the mostly healed wound there. And now it's stinging was caused by tears instead of sweat.

He patted her back awkwardly. "Uhh…there, there," he muttered uncomfortably, looking around by force of habit to see if anyone was watching from the shadows. That's exactly what I need, he thought. To be caught down here with my hands on this girl, and half naked to boot. Mal would have his balls for breakfast if he didn't get out of here.

His eyes scanned the shadows again.

"Please," she sobbed against him, "please don't let them take me back there -"

Jayne grimaced, anger roughening his voice. "Look," he said. "I ain't gonna do that." He stared down at her, his hands wrapped around her upper arms. "It was stupid, and even I know it, and it ain't never gonna happen again."

Her eyes met his. "They hurt me there," she said quietly, and for the first time, Jayne understood what she meant. What they had all implied, but no one had actually said, and what he had avoided thinking about because it wasn't his problem. "They" whoever they were, had tortured this little girl. They had done… _things_… to her.

"They put needles in my eyes," she said then _(she's reading my mind, he thought)_, "and sucked out pieces of my brain."

Jayne ground his teeth. "_Wuh de ma_," he said. "They put needles in your _eyes_?"

She blinked, saying nothing, and Jayne suddenly knew something else about little River Tam. You might not be able to understand most of what came out of her mouth, but just because you couldn't understand it didn't mean it was nonsense. She wasn't lying.

"Come on," he said after a moment, standing up and pulling her along. "I'll take you back to the doc and he'll know what to do."

"No," she said, pleadingly. "He sticks needles in me, too. I hate it."

Jayne sighed again, looking down at her. "Well - what do ya want me to do, then?" he asked belligerently.

She smiled up at him, the same smile she'd bounced off him on Ariel. "Let's eat apples," she said.

Despite himself, he couldn't retain his own reluctant half-smile. Relieved that she was no longer crying, he bent and picked his discarded shirt up from the floor.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go eat apples. Then you're goin' to bed, _dong ma_?"

She smiled happily, her pain momentarily forgotten, and they made their way to the mess as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Apples. If the bible was to be believed, they represented sin itself.

Of course, this didn't cross Jayne's mind, not on any conscious level – but the sight of her white teeth breaking the firm red fruit seemed somehow sinful. Especially when she smiled and licked her lips, for all the world like a cat in the cream jar.

He remembered the first time he had seen her – naked, terrifed, completely scrambled. Though he'd never admit to it, not even on pain of death, he'd felt a stab of pity for her that day, too, even though he'd quickly brushed it aside.

He remembered what he'd said to the lawman when he'd described her. "It's a girl – a cute one, too… I don't think she's all there, though. Course, not all of her has to be, if you get my drift?"

He wondered if she knew he'd said that about her, if she might not even know what he was thinking right now. The thought of it made him nervous, though she seemed uninterested in anything but the apples right now.

The apples… They were his pledge to Mal that he would never betray anyone on this crew again. And somehow, he reflected, they _were_ a part of the crew now. Even her.

The way she had huddled against him earlier had made him acutely uncomfortable. He didn't have any experience in comforting or being comforted – his had been a hard life, and it had made him strong and callous, in equal proportions. Still… something about it had appealed to him. As the kind of man who had only ever had dealings with whores and hard working women like Zoe, never once in his life had a woman turned to him for comfort or protection. It had made him feel… strong.

He remembered the day he had run through the corridors of the ship with a wounded Kaylee in his arms, and he'd heard her mutter, "Damn, you're strong," under her breath. He'd had a moment of pride then. He _was_ strong. But that was a different kind of strength. He wondered if feeling like he did right now when a girl acted like she needed him made him a different kind of man than he'd always thought he was.

Without looking up from the joyous contemplation of her half-eaten apple, River spoke. "Man of instinct," she said matter-of-factly.

A stab of fear shot through Jayne. "You readin' my mind?" he asked harshly.

River frowned, then placed the remains of her apple carefully on the table before her.

"The mind is not a book," she said slowly. "The mind is a diamond, throwing thoughts like rays of light. Some facets shine more brightly, bright enough to blind or burn. Thought moves through the diamond at the speed of light, and even though I try to look away, some sparks fall on me anyway…"

Fixated on River, trying to figure out her words, Jayne completely missed the arrival of Simon. When Simon entered the mess, Jayne jumped, hand grasping for knife before thought.

_:man of instinct:_

"River!" Simon exclaimed softly, coming quickly to his sister's side, nearly ignoring Jayne. "River, what are you doing down here?"

Simon glanced suspiciously at Jayne.

"We was just havin' some apples," Jayne said sullenly. "She wasn't doin' nuthin' wrong."

Tugging gently on her arm, Simon said, "Let's go back to our rooms, River, and I'll give you a smoother to help you sleep."

Jayne couldn't help it, the doctor just irritated him. "Hey, doc," he said, "it ever occur to you that keepin' her drugged ain't solvin' the problem?"

Simon glanced at him disparagingly. "Don't presume to think you have any idea what you're talking about," he said. "I am a doctor and River is -"

"She's a girl, not a gorram doll, I know _that_," snarled Jayne. "And bein' a doctor don't make you god." Jayne stood up to intimidate the slighter Simon. "Maybe if you give'er a chance, she might sort it out on her own," he growled.

Suddenly, River was excited. "Simon!" she exclaimed. "The mind! The mind is like a diamond, thoughts moving through like light!" She smiled proudly.

"Yes, River," he responded calmingly. "Let's leave Jayne alone now." He continued to tug gently on her arm.

"Gorramit, doc!" Jayne suddenly snapped. "Would ya just lissen to her for a minute? She's tryin' to tell ya how she reads minds!"

Simon froze, then turned to look at Jayne full-on. "What in your _tiny, _simian mind makes you think you have any idea at all what's going on in my sister's head?" he growled, and for the first time, Jayne saw something truly fierce in the boy as Simon faced him, fists clenched.

Jayne looked into his eyes assessingly, blue eyes clashing with blue. Simon's courage fostered a grudging respect in Jayne.

"Just lissen to her before ya drug her, stupid," he said softly. "She told me somethin' like – The mind ain't a book, but it's like a diamond and thoughts is like lights flashin' out… or somethin' like that." Jayne cursed his own inability to articulate anything. Talkin' wasn't his strong point, it was too related to thinkin'.

Simon turned incredulous eyes to River. "Is this what you and Jayne were talking about, River?" he asked her in that soft voice he reserved for her and her alone.

River stood, picking up her half-eaten apple. "Yes, Simon," she said. "And Jayne said, _They put needles in your eyes_? And I said, _Yes _and he said _It ain't never gonna happen again_."

Jayne felt himself flush, remembering the conversation in the cargo bay, and prayed like hell she wouldn't say how she'd leaned up against him and cried. And how he'd let her do it.

Simon looked from River to Jayne and back again, his eyes blank. Then – "Don't talk like that, River," was all he said. "Let's go back to our rooms."

River looked at Simon, then at Jayne on the other side of the table. "Finish my sin," she said to him, handing him the half eaten apple.

Jayne just nodded as the two of them turned away and left the mess.

Then he looked down at the half-eaten apple in his hand. In four bites, he ate it, core and all, waste not being something he could tolerate. But as he finished it, he wondered what she meant when she called the apple 'sin'.

He shrugged. Maybe he'd ask her, later, when he ran across her in the catwalks.

He smirked. If nothin' else, talkin' to her would piss off the doctor, and that was always good for a laugh.

_(feedback, please!)_


	2. Chapter 2

Since their conversation in the galley, he hadn't seen her much – mostly at meals, sometimes from a distance. He noticed that her brother seemed to be stayin' mighty close to her.

Right now, Jayne sat in the galley with the rest of the crew, where they all tended to gather at the end of the day, after eating their evening meal together. He'd noticed that the doc was keepin' her on his side of the table, these days, too.

He shook his head and went back to sewing up the rip in the knee of his favorite pants, the ones with all the pockets. He'd run out of guns to clean and knives to sharpen, though he could have found one if he'd been able to talk Kaylee into doing this sewing for him. Unfortunately, she'd only laughed when he'd done his best to wheedle her into doing it, and he'd laughed back. It had been worth a try, but he hadn't figured any of the women on Serenity were going to do his sewing . As a result, these were gonna be some sorry-lookin' britches, but what could a man do?

Mal and Inara were engaged in what looked like a do-or-die chess match, egged on by Zoe and Wash. Zoe, of course, was trying to advise Inara, who didn't look like she needed any help, and Wash was doing his best to help out Mal, and only getting him in more trouble. Jayne shook his head slightly. Looked kinda like Zoe and Wash needed to get their own game, but still – they all looked like they was havin' fun.

Simon was trying to teach Kaylee and Book some kind of card game while River looked on, her eyes slightly unfocussed. She looked either bored to tears, or…. drugged completely stupid.

Jayne's eyes sharpened on her. Was the doc keepin' her drugged beyond reason now that he was afraid she was wandering around the ship in the middle of the night? His head tilted to the side, studying her for a moment, then went back to his sewing. Wasn't none of his business if the doc thought dopin' her was for the best. Hell, a couple a' weeks ago, he might of suggested it himself. Course, that was before he realized that she was just talkin' in a code most of the time. He didn't pretend to know why she did it or what she was sayin', but since the thought had occurred to him, he hadn't been able to shake it. He just wasn't sure how crazy she actually was.

Unknown to him, Mal's eyes had come to rest on him while he studied River, and had dropped back to the chess board with hardly a pause. But his interest hadn't gone unnoticed.

Later, as the group began to retire, one by one and two by two, Jayne also gathered his supplies, thinking he would head down to the cargo bay to work out, then on to his bunk.

Just as Book, the doc and River headed out the door toward the passenger dorms, Mal slid into the seat opposite him at the table.

"A moment of your time, please," Mal said in a soft voice.

Jayne looked up, surprised, still winding thread back around a spool. "Yeah, Mal, what's up?" he asked.

Mal looked at him for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. "That's what I'd like to know," he finally said.

Jayne's mind went blank for a moment while he tried futilely to figure out what he'd done. Finally, he just looked at Mal and said, "What're you talkin' about Mal?"

Mal's eyes narrowed. "Had a talk with the doc day before yesterday, and he had an awful interestin' tale for me, Jayne. Said he caught you here in the kitchen with his sister in the middle of the night. What you got to say about that?"

Jayne was momentarily thrown. Then, he was angry. "Well," he said, "I ain't got nothin' to say about it," he growled. "I didn't do nothin' wrong, and neither did she. I ran across her down in the cargo bay and we both had a taste for apples is all. Nothin' else to it."

Mal arched an eyebrow. "You ran across her in the cargo bay and the two of you just decided to come down here and … hang out? That's your story?"

Jayne made every effort to remain calm. "Yeah, Mal," he said, his voice like ice. "That's my story."

Mal shook his head. "Well, c'mon, Jayne," he said. "You gotta look at this from my point of view. Knowin' what I know, if ya know what I mean."

Jayne knew exactly what Mal was referrin' to – his betrayal of the Tams on Ariel. He ground his teeth.

"Look, Mal," he said. "She came down there while I was workin' out, and she was – she was cryin' and stuff. It made me feel bad – real bad. Like when that dumb kid got hisself killed down in Canton. And the next thing I know, she's talkin' to me, and I'm kinda understandin' her. And then, she wanted an apple, so I came down here with her and had one, too. Then that snarky-ass brother of hers come down here and acted like he smelled somethin' bad, and took her back to the dorms. And that's all that happened. I swear."

Mal looked at him steadily, and Jayne prayed that he could read the honesty in his eyes. "Her brother says the girl has mentioned your name a couple of times. He says he thinks you might have done something or said something that was out of line. Did you?"

Jayne thought of the long moment when River had laid her wet cheek against his chest, how she'd cried against him and drug an apology out of him for his betrayal. Had he done something wrong? He didn't think so. "No," he said to Mal. "I didn't do nothin' that was out of line, and I didn't say nothin', either. Hell, I'm startin' to get used to her."

Both of Mal's eyebrows shot up at this. "You're getting' used to her?" he said, disbelievingly. "_Really_?"

Jayne shrugged. "It was either that, or toss her out of the closest airlock," he muttered. "Course, I ain't decided about that damn brother of hers, him causin' me all this trouble."

Mal shook his head. "Look, Jayne," he said. "His sister's all he's got. He gave up everything to get her out of that place, and he worries about her. Hell, we all do. I'm just sayin' if he doesn't want you around her, do your best to avoid her. Let's not have trouble over this, all right?"

Jayne felt unfairly treated, but he just pressed his lips in a grim line and kept winding thread around the spool.

"_Alright_?" Mal asked again, commanding his compliance.

Despite his vow to himself that he wasn't going to do it, Jayne couldn't help himself. "No, gorramit," he growled, "it ain't alright!"

He stood and walked to the end of the table, then turned back to a baffled-looking Mal. "Did you see her, tonight, Mal?" he asked. "That damn brother of hers has given up trying to cure her, he's – he's -" Jayne struggled for words, as he often had to. "He's druggin' her just to keep'er quiet – to keep'er from doin' whatever it is he don't approve of. That ain't right, is it?"

Mal's face looked as if he more than half thought Jayne was having a joke on him. Then his eyebrows came together as he considered Jayne's words.

Then, softly, he said, "Now, Jayne, tell me the truth. Is there somethin' goin' on between you and the girl that I should know about?"

"Jesus, Mal!" Jayne exploded. "She's just a – a kid! And she ain't even all there! I may be stupid, but I ain't stupid like that, and you should know it!"

Mal raised a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Alright," he said, "I believe you." Then he shook his head. "I think this is a very odd development, but…"he sighed. "I believe you." He sighed. "I'll talk to Simon about… about maybe not druggin' her so much – but frankly, I gotta tell ya – I find her safer to be around this way. I do like her quiet."

Jayne just shook his head. "Maybe you should try listenin' to her, Mal," he said quietly. "I swear, I think she may be talkin' in some kinda – some kinda code, or somethin', because I almost understood what it was she was tryin' to talk to me about."

Mal just looked at him quizzically for a moment, then said, "Jayne, if you're havin' me on, now would be a good time to just admit it. We'll have a good laugh and move on."

Jayne shoved the thread in the pocket of the pants he'd been working on, and shrugged. Then he looked at Mal over his shoulder, as if he couldn't quite stand to meet his gaze head on. "You know what the doc said when he was scannin' her brain, Mal? He said that whatever those people did to her, they cut open her brain and made it so she couldn't not feel everything all the time." Then he turned to face the captain. "Can you imagine what that must be like? All the time?"

Jayne put on palm flat on the table, and leaned closer to Mal. "Now imagine what it would be like if you not only couldn't stop feeling all your own stuff all the time, but you started feelin' everybody else's stuff too. Might make ya a little crazy, huh?"

He shook his head. "I just feel kinda – I don't know – sorry for her, I guess. She can't help bein' a pain in the ass." Jayne straightened. "That brother o' hers, though, what's his gorram excuse?"

Mal just kept looking at him like he'd grown an extra set of ears, until Jayne snapped, "_What?_!"

Mal shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. "Are we talkin' about the same girl that cut you open here in this same kitchen?" he asked acidly. "The very same girl you been campaigning against since the minute she got here? That Tam gir?"

Jayne looked down sulkily, then back at Mal. "Yeah," he said. "What if I am?"

Mal shook his head wryly. "Just makin' sure we're talkin' about the same thing, here."

Finally, Jayne just shook his head. "You know what, Mal?" he said. "Just forget it. You're right. I ain't got nothin' to talk to that messed up kid about, anyway, and it ain't none of my business if that brother of hers wants to drug her from here to kingdom come. I just don't wanna talk about it no more."

He stomped out, ducking through the too-low portal, newly sewn pants clenched in his fist, leaving a genuinely confused Mal sitting alone at the table. After a while, Mal just blinked.

Then he made for Inara's shuttle.

_(20 minutes later)_

"So… you're telling me that Jayne – _our_ Jayne – has taken, if not a liking, then a … tolerance for River?" Inara asked, as she poured Mal a second cup of tea. "_Jayne_?"

Mal nodded. "I know, right? It's weird." His eyes met hers over the edge of the tea cup. "You don't think there's anything… _else_ goin' on, do ya?"

Inara thought for a moment, sipping her own tea. "Well…" she said, "stranger things have happened than a man Jayne's age getting interested in a pretty girl like River." She paused, then continued. "But I haven't seen anything that would suggest that, and believe me - Jayne would be completely incapable of hiding something like that from me. I can read him like a book."

That piqued Mal's interest. "Oh?" he asked. "Been checkin' out our Jayne, have you?"

Inara's disparaging look made Mal smile to himself.

"As if," she said. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm trained in body language. Someone like Jayne is completely incapable of keeping something like that a secret from anyone with training."

Mal nodded. Then – "You think it could _turn_ into somethin' else?"

Inara considered her tea for a moment. "Well," she said slowly, "opposites do attract, and sometimes people are so off balance by themselves that when they find someone who balances them, they both fall naturally together… Think about Wash and Zoe, for example."

Mal looked at her consideringly, not thinking of Wash and Zoe at all. Then he shook his head. Back to business. "So, you think something… inappropriate _could_ crop up between Jayne and River."

Inara shrugged. "If you consider it inappropriate."

Mal's eyes widened. "Well – I do consider it inappropriate," he nearly stuttered. "I know on Sihnon y'all got an open attitude to sex and all, but that's just a defenseless little girl, and I don't approve of -"

Inara's laugh interrupted Mal's tirade, much to his further indignation. "Mal," she said, indulgently, "if you want to protest against the inappropriateness of Jayne and River, that's your business. But let it be for some reason better than her age – for surely age is just a measurement of experience and emotional maturity. She's had plenty of adult experiences, very adult and horrible experiences – and let's face it. Jayne is not the very picture of maturity. Who's to say they aren't made for each other?"

Mal slammed his tea cup down on the tabletop and stood. "_I'm_ to say they ain't made for each other, that's who!" he stated. "It ain't gonna happen on this ship, and that's the end of it."

Inara stood then, too, her chin up, her eyes meeting his. "Mal," she said softly, "if you have issues with people on this ship having relationships, let them remain your issues. You came here to ask my advice, and here it is. Stay out of it. It's just none of your business." She glanced down at the tea cup. "And now, if you're finished manhandling my fragile things, I think I'd like to turn in."

And with Inara's gentle gesture toward the door of her shuttle, Mal somehow found himself locked out.

Jayne, meanwhile, was still steaming. Mal thought he was sexin' the Tam girl! He wasn't sure if he'd ever felt so insulted in his life. Yeah, she was pretty, sure – but she was crazy, and just a kid. He might be a lot o' things, but he was _not_ a rapist. Hell, he had a sister!

Despite not needing a cleaning, Vera sat before him on the small table in his berth, pieces layed out neatly in a row. Even though she didn't need cleaning, taking her apart and putting her back together again always soothed his temper. The metallic slide and click of the pieces going back together was a sound he never tired of, and watching her take shape under his hands reassured him that there was something he was good at.

However, after dissembling and reassembling her three times, he barely felt any better at all.

Hell and damnation. He sighed. This was gonna be a long trip.

Feeling restless, he had to get out of his room and roam. Maybe he'd head down to the engine room and see what Kaylee was up to. Sometimes she was listenin' to that music that he liked, and though he'd never admit it to her, it was her musical taste as much as anything that sometimes drew him down there.

Somehow, though, his feet didn't lead him down to the engine room at all, and he found himself on the cats over the main cargo bay where he'd had that initial conversation with River. 'Forgiveness', she'd said. 'For you, from you.' She was tellin' him to get over it, he got that. So _she_ wouldn't have to suffer for it any more. And so he'd tried to stop thinkin' about it. It was over.

He leaned his elbows on the railing. Or, more likely, it might never be over til they wasn't all together on this boat no more. Maybe he should move on when they docked on Artemis and find other work. Hell, there was lots o' work to be found on Artemis, it was just a matter of lookin'. And, he had some scratch saved up if he had to wait on the right job, if it came to that.

"Wrong answer," she said behind him.

He shook his head, not even surprised, then looked over his shoulder. She was wearing that oversized pink sweater with the long black skirt, and once again, her feet were bare.

"You gonna get blisters on yer feet walkin up on these cats with no shoes," he said, referring to the metal grating they were both standing on. Then he turned back to the darkened cargo bay.

She leaned back on the railing beside him. "Aren't you going to ask me to explain?" she asked.

"Nope."

"When I said sin, I was referring to the Bible. In the Garden of Eden, Eve offers Adam an apple, the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. When they eat it, they both realize the difference between right and wrong."

He turned to look at her. "And that's supposed to mean what to me?"

She looked back at him steadily, more steadily than he'd ever seen her. "Do you know the difference between right and wrong?" she asked.

His eyes narrowed on her. "You're different," he said, then corrected himself as she raised one eyebrow. "No, I mean – different than how you usually are."

She turned and imitated his posture exactly, her elbows resting on the safety rail, one foot raised to rest on the lowest one. She looked down on the bay.

Without looking at him, she finally said, "Let's just say I'm having a sane moment." Her head bowed and her hair obscured her profile. Unable to watch her, Jayne stared back down at the cargo bay as well.

After thinkin' on it a minute and casting a sideways glance in her direction, Jayne said, "What're you lookin' so down about it for? I was thinkin' you'd like a minute or two of sanity."

She half-smiled but didn't look at him. "I might, except it only means that I'm aware of how quickly it's going to pass. Can you imagine how much worse it is to know you're insane?"

Jayne thought about it, then shook his head. "I guess I never thought about it that way," he admitted. "I ain't exactly the brightest light in the box, though."

She gave him a quick sideways glance. "There are many kinds of intelligence," she said. "You have a different way of processing information, that's all."

Jayne raised one eyebrow and huffed disbelievingly, still not looking at her. Then, without even knowing what he was going to say – ""What was those people trying to do to you?"

River closed her eyes. "They were trying to create a weapon."

"What kinda weapon?"

He looked at her in the semi-darkness, and thought he saw her bottom lip jut out like she was gonna cry again, and immediately felt like a bastard. But before he could take back his question, she spoke, her voice dry and emotionless.

"The kind of weapon that could kill a thousand people in their dreams and dream itself of neck bones breaking beneath it's bare feet. A weapon that never tires of killing but is just human enough to smell humanity. A weapon that has no heart to break and no mercy…" she said. "A weapon that can take complicated orders."

For a shaming moment, Jayne felt fear streak through him at her description. And on it's heels, pity. What had they done to her? What had the doc said, that she was _fourteen_

when they took her? Good gorram, what had they done? Still, he had to ask.

"And did they?"

Finally, she looked at him again, and completely at odds with her dry voice, her eyes were wet.

"Close enough," she said. Then she rested her forehead on her crossed wrists on the safety rail.

Jayne didn't know what to do, and shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably before fixing his gaze again on the near darkness below him.

"Yer brother told Mal he found us in the kitchen together," he finally said. "And Mal don't want me talkin' to ya no more."

She didn't move, just stood there with her forehead resting her crossed wrists, so he went on.

"I think yer brother and Mal might think somethin' – well - " Jayne searched for the word. "Inappropriate," he finally said, uncomfortably. "I think they think somethin' wrong might have gone on that night."

River turned her head just enough to be able to look at him with one eye. Then she surprised him. "Since when do you care what people think?"

"Well, I - " Jayne was stumped for a second. Then – "Well, I gotta work here, so I gotta care what my captain thinks," he said. "We can't afford for there to be no personal troubles between all of us out here in the black – that sorta thing gets folk killed."

She straightened and looked at him full on. "I'm falling back into darkness, now," she said hollowly. "Losing cohesion, breaking into fractal patterns of sadness and need and fear," she said.

Something clutched at Jayne's stomach, something he couldn't name. "Go back down to yer brother's quarters, then," he said. "He can help you – I can't."

"No!" she suddenly cried out. "His fear becomes my fear becomes his fear becomes my fear," she began to babble. "It's worse, it's worse than being alone, worse than being anywhere!" Suddenly she began to shake her head wildly from side to side. "Your wrong answer is my answer," she suddenly said. "Your wrong answer – going away, yes – yes, to be alone – maybe that is the answer -"

Jayne was shocked at how quickly she sank into her illness again, worse than he had ever seen her.

As she continued to talk to herself, he stepped toward her. "River!" he said in his most commanding voice.

She stopped in mid-sentence, staring into his eyes.

"_Stop_," he said, his eyes searching into hers. "It's like when you're waitin' for the perfect shot, and you can't afford to miss it. You gotta think one thought at a time and stay real slow and quiet." She continued to stare at him with wide eyes. "You doin' that?" he asked.

After a moment, she said, "No," and her voice was shaking.

"Try countin' backwards," he said. "I used ta do that when I was getting' nervous," he admitted, not realizing he was admitting that he'd ever _been_ nervous.

She tried to smile and failed. "Jayne," she said, "I can count prime numbers back from the millions and still have a thousand other thoughts - " Suddenly, she broke off.

Seeing the odd look on her face, he took another step toward her.

Without warning, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted.

Shades of her first day here, when he had run through the ship carrying Kaylee, only this time, he was carrying _her_, and she was so much more fragile, he could feel it. As he ran for the infirmary, she began to convulse.

He ran faster.

At the door to the infirmary, he stopped, still trying to hold her as he called the doc on the com. Finally pressing the button that broadcasted to the entire ship, he yelled, "Doc! Get down to the infirmary, RIGHT NOW!" Then he layed River on the exam table and tried to hold her as she convulsed again.

Panic coursed through him. What was takin' the damn doc so long? C'mon, c'mon! he thought, as the convulsions continued. What if she died? His mind stuck on an endless track of meaningless questions. Had he somehow caused this? What was wrong with her?

Finally, the doc raced though the portal, Reverend Book right on his heels.

The doctor never missed a step, just flew through the door and pushed Jayne violently away from the exam table. "Get off her!" he yelled. Then, to Book, he said – " Open that case and give me the prepped syringe – no – the blue one!"

And from there it began to pass in a blur. The captain arrived, with Kaylee, Wash and Zoe right behind. Finally, Inara arrived, just as River's convulsions began to subside.

As the girl on the table finally began to quiet, Simon turned to Jayne. "What did you do to her?" he asked. Then, louder, as he stepped around the table. "_What did you do to her!_" And just like that, Simon was on him. Jayne did his best not to hurt the smaller man, just pushed him away, hard, sending him spinning into the counter at the side of the room. Then Mal and Wash stepped between them, Mal holding a wild-looking Simon in a hard grip around the smaller man's chest.

"Calm the hell down!" Mal yelled, and Simon abruptly stopped struggling, but his blue eyes spat hatred across the room at Jayne.

"What did you do to her?" he demanded again.

Jayne rubbed the back of his hand over the corner of his mouth where Simon had gotten in his one shot. "I didn't do nothin' to her," he said. "I found'er up in the cat-walks – we talked for a few minutes and I told her to come back down here. Then her eyes just sorta rolled back and she come to kickin' and convulsin'." Jayne's eyes fell on the now quiet girl. "Is she… is she gonna be alright?" he asked.

Kaylee stepped up to Simon, put one hand on his arm. "Simon," she said, "take a deep breath. You gotta think about helpin' River." Simon glanced at Kaylee, then back at Jayne. Then his gaze turned to River.

Kaylee's gaze met Mal's over Simon's shoulder, and Mal nodded. She was doin' right, calmin' him down.

Meanwhile, Jayne saw another meaning. He stomped from the infirmary.

Mal stomped after him. "Jayne!" he said. "I wanna talk to you!"

Jayne stopped, then looked back over his shoulder. "I didn't do nothin' to her, Mal," he said quietly. "I ain't the one you should be lookin' at."

Mal's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" he finally asked.

Jayne shook his head. "Why did he already have that medicine prepped and ready to go?" he asked Mal. When Mal looked confused, Jayne grimaced. "Maybe you oughta be havin' questions for somebody else is all I'm sayin. Now, if you don't mind, I gotta go clean my guns."


	3. Chapter 3

Of Guilt, Sin and Apples - Part 3

The days passed in relative silence. Jayne avoided communal meals and any other group activities, afraid that if he interacted with the crew, there might be a conflict with the doctor. As a result, he hadn't seen River since the incident up on the catwalk over the main cargo area. He had the distinct feeling that everyone on board thought he'd had something to do with her collapse up there – and possibly more than one of 'em thought he was a child molester, too, he'd bet.

Jayne hated the long, roundabout routes that Mal often insisted on taking between jobs. Mal, Zoe, Wash and Kaylee all had something to do in between planets, and the rest had each other to amuse. He had his guns to attend to. And once they was tended, that was pretty much it. Occasionally he would go down to the engine room and see if Kaylee needed any help with the heavy liftin' and such, but for the most part, Jayne was left to his own devices between destinations.

It was times like this when he wished he'd listened to his ma and got more education – then he might enjoy readin' or some such. Instead, stuck on this _go se _ship without even vids to watch or nothin' else to do, he was startin' to get a little stir-crazy now that he'd cut himself off from the rest. Still, he figured a strong man would suffer in silence, and that's what he meant to do. No matter how many hours he had to spend in his bunk, staring at the same ugly ceilin'.

It gave'im an awful lot a time to think, just layin' there on his bunk all day, waitin' for his chance to go down to the kitchen and then down to the bay for some weight liftin'. He thought about a lot of things, but mostly about the incidents which had landed him here in his bunk for the rest of the trip to Artemis. The Tam girl. River. She'd sought him out and made him feel lower than a dog about his mistake back on Ariel. He wondered if she knew he'd decided to back out on the Feds, even before they'd arrived. When the doc had been describing what they'd done to her brain, that was when he realized he couldn't do it. That's why he'd hurried'em out early – he'd been hopin' to miss the net the Feds was castin'. Instead, he'd just walked 'em right into it. What choice had he had but to go along, at that point? He sighed.

And then, her comin' down to the cargo bay that night and cryin' on him. That had made him uncomfortable as hell, but – after that, he _ thought_ about her. He felt somehow responsible for her. And he suspected she knew that, that she was feelin' him feel it. It just made him feel worse, and _that_ just made him feel guiltier than ever, 'cause he knew she was feelin' that, too.

He turned over onto his side and stared at the wall opposite for a while. Hell, he thought, _I'm_ the one who needs a damn smoother.

And her brother, the doctor. What the hell was he up to? Jayne didn't know if the doc would intentionally hurt her – hell, he doubted that the doc could, what with his sister bein' a mind reader and all. But what the hell was goin' on? How had he had that medicine already in the syringe that night when River'd gone into convulsions? How had he known?

And finally, his mind zeroed in on the thing he tried most not to think about. River. Why had she come lookin' for him that second time? The first time, he knew it was because his guilt was drivin' her crazy. Well, more crazy, anyway. But the second time, for a minute there, she had been as normal as anybody. They'd almost had a conversation, and she'd told him about how they'd tried to turn her into a weapon of some sort. An assassin, maybe. But mostly, he remembered her eyes.

They reminded him of somethin' that had happened when he was just a kid, back on Croft. He'd grown up on a farm – nothin' fancy, of course, but a workin' farm that could sustain a family if well tended. Everything on the farm had to produce, and that included the bitch sheepdog his daddy'd kept for watchin' the animals. Every few months, she'd be bred, and pups sold or traded. But one year, there'd been a specific pup Jayne'd been taken with – a pup with off-markin's, a runt. His daddy'd been surprised when the pup had lived and grown to be as big than the rest, and when the time to sell the pups had come, that runt had been one of the first to go. But Jayne, against his daddy's advice, had spent some time with that pup, and when it's new owner had come to get it, he'd thought his eleven year old heart was gonna break when it had stared back at him over it's new owner's shoulder as it was taken away.

That's kinda how he felt when River turned those big brown eyes of hers on him. And he didn't like it, _at all_. Who the hell was she to make him feel like he owed her somethin'? Every time she looked at him, it cut right into him. Made him feel guilty. And weak. And stupid.

He tried to push it from his mind and think about something else.

That night, while everyone slept, he lifted weights maniacally, hoping to exhaust himself utterly. After he worked out, he meant to eat and then to go back to his bunk, break out his whiskey and drink himself into a stupor he didn't mean to wake from for at least twelve hours. They only had four more days to Artemis, then he could get off the boat and get some exercise and fresh air. And new work.

He lifted. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.

As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he'd miss Serenity and her crew. Even Mal, for all his occasional wrong-headedness. Zoe for her startling flashes of good humor, not to mention her perfect aim. Kaylee for her sweet nature. Jayne wasn't sure he'd ever known anybody nicer than Kaylee, and he doubted he ever would again. Even Wash, for all the fact that Wash hated _him_, he weren't such a bad fella. Hell, Zoe married him, so he couldn't be _all _bad. And the preacher. He'd miss ole' Book. The old guy was good-natured, and not too preachy for all his good-bookin'. Course, he doubted he'd miss Inara much. They'd rarely had much to say to one another, and when they did, it always ended badly – though he'd be the first to admit, she was mighty easy on the eyes. And the Tams. He damn sure wouldn't miss the doc, that was for sure. And River?. Nope, he told himself stauchly. Nothin' there to miss, either. Just a poor, crazy girl who might not be crazy after all.

He shelved the weights and sat up, panting.

_Déjà vu. _At least he was wearin' his shirt this time.

"You ain't supposed to be down here," he said stiffly, then laid back on the bench and picked up the weights again. "Go _away_."

He heard nothing and refused to look.

He lifted. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. He shelved the weights after just a few reps, panting. He hadn't meant to lift anymore. Instead, he just laid there, afraid to sit up and see if she was still there. If she was, he'd be in danger of gettin' in more trouble. If she wasn't, well he'd feel bad. There weren't no other way to say it.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm and sighed, closing his eyes. "You gone yet?" he asked, still not sitting up.

"No."

His eyes flew open. She was standing at the head of the weight bench, elbow propped on the weight bar, leaning casually over him, her brown eyes fixed on his. Her hair hung a handsbreadth from his face.

He jumped and sat up, putting his back to her. "Damn, girl!" he said, "you sure got a talent for creepin' up, dontcha?"

He didn't turn and look at her, but he heard the smile in her voice when she spoke. "Puppies don't creep," she giggled. "They gambole!"

Jayne cringed, still not looking at her. "That's private," he said. "I bet you got manners enough left not to bring up private stuff, right?"

He looked over his shoulder at her finally, to find her smile fading. "I'm not a puppy," she said. "Not a girl, either – not whole. Not right." She straightened and stared down at her hands for a moment.

Jayne looked down at the floor. Finally, he said, "Well, we all got our short-comin's, don't we? I ain't smart – and Mal's just straight up ugly. So that's just the way it is, alright?"

He stood abruptly. "You gotta go where ever you're goin', girl," he said, still not looking at her. "And I gotta go somewheres else. You understand what I'm sayin'?"

He finally turned and looked at her head-on. "You and me, we can't talk in private no more," he continued. "Ever' time it happens, I get in trouble and the last time, well – you remember. It didn't end too good. You go find Kaylee now, like a good girl and leave ole' Jayne to hisself."

It was the kindest speech he knew how to make, it genuinely was. It made him feel bad, how she just looked at him. _Go se_, he thought. This just ain't right. What wasn't right about it, he couldn't articulate, but he felt – bad. Real bad.

"But you have to know," she said, her voice plainitive. "About Simon. Simon doesn't mean to hurt me – he doesn't understand how his needles and his good intentions and his fear - " she broke off. "He's afraid," she finally said.

She had Jayne's full attention, now. Though he'd done his best to send her away, she'd touched on what had eaten on his mind these last days. He'd feared Simon was hurting her, maybe unintentionally.

"Why'd he have that medicine all ready for you when you got sick, then, huh?" he asked abruptly, his eyes intent on hers.

She smiled, wistfully. "Needles are my daily bread. Would my brother deny me that which I need to survive?"

"I don't trust'im," Jayne said.

River smiled gently. "You can trust the sun to rise, can't you?" she asked. "You can trust the tide to come in. Trust in that."

Jayne shook his head. Once again, her words, her code, made no sense to him. All he knew was, he had to get off this boat soon – as soon as it touched dirt, he had to grab his stuff and vacate. He felt like he had ants under his skin, he was so stressful.

He turned to walk away, and before he got more than a few steps, she stopped him with her hand on his arm. He stopped in his tracks, staring at the floor, wanting to shake her hand off him and walk away, but he lacked the will to hurt her feelings. _Him_, Jayne Cobb – didn't want to hurt a girl's feelings For a second, the thought almost made him hate her – but he still didn't pull away. They stood for a long moment, saying nothing, while he studied her hand on his arm – took in how small it was, how pale. How it held him back without force.

And that was when Mal's voice cut into the gloom of the half-light that burned during Serenity's night cycle.

"Jayne," he said, "you better have a damn good explanation for why you're down here with her," he said from the middle of the grated stairs that led from both sides of Serenity's outer areas into the main cargo bay. "And when I say 'damn good reason'," Mal continued, "I mean 'damn near miraculous'."

Jayne put his hand over River's, just to remove it from his arm, but he hesitated, looking down at her.

_:no fighting:_

_:it'll be alright:_

Jayne blinked. _What the gorram hell?_

Gently, he lifted her hand from his arm and turned back to Mal, who was descending the stairs with the fire and brimstone look of a daddy whose little girl had been caught in the hayloft.

Jayne said nothing until Mal was face to face with him, but he managed to subtly position himself between Mal and River.

Looking Mal in the eye, he said – "There ain't nothin' goin' on, Mal. I was down here and she just wandered in, that's all."

Jayne's protective positioning wasn't lost on Mal. "Well," he said sarcastically, "it really ain't _her_ well-bein' you need to worry about right now, if you get my drift, Jayne."

River surprised them both. "Jayne means to take his stuff and vacate as soon as this boat hits dirt!" she exclaimed.

Both of them turned to look at her, Jayne's expression incredulous.

Mal looked from River to Jayne. "_Really_?" he said.

Jayne shook his head. "I never said no such thing," he said, strangely not angry that she was spewing his private thoughts all over the place, " but I _was_ thinkin' it. It's prob'ly time for me to just move on, dontcha think?"

River pushed her way between them. "Don't let him go, captain," she said, all seriousness. "He needs a puppy, that's all."

Mal looked down at her, completely at a loss. "Little girl," he finally said, ruefully "I got no idea what you're sayin'."

River smiled. "Jayne does," she said.

Jayne just shook his head and looked Mal right in the eye. "No," he said, "I _don't_. I got no ruttin' idea." He glanced down at River, then looked back at Mal. "You see what I'm dealin' with, here?" he asked. "She finds me, I don't find her. She thinks we're communicatin' – and I got no idea what's goin' on." Jayne shifted from foot to foot, feeling guiltier than ever. "And I don't know why the damn girl keeps followin' me around when all I want is to be left alone!" he finally exploded.

River frowned up at Jayne fiercely, then turned to the stairs.

Jayne and Mal looked up at the sound of shoes clattering down the stairs to find Simon on the approach.

River made a striking picture standing between the two tall men in the half-lit cargo bay. She was so small compared to the two of them. Half a step closer to Jayne than to Mal, her body language spoke volumes. Simon had seen her like this before, but only when he'd been standing where Jayne was standing now, and their father had been standing in Mal's place. This was a family argument – and River was on Jayne's side. And _he_ was being left out of it.

He tried to control the anger that rose in his throat at the picture of River and Jayne standing there together. He'd told River over and over that she mustn't seek Jayne out, that she was to leave him alone and avoid him as much as possible. He'd seen that Jayne had made himself scarce, and had felt a grim, if somewhat convoluted, satisfaction in the knowledge that Jayne's job meant more to him than anything to do with the 'moonbrained' River.

River looked at Simon and smiled. "More family than ever before," she commented, glancing at Mal, then sliding her eyes back to Simon.

Simon stopped a half meter away, somehow not daring to reach into that cage of flesh and drag his sister from between the two men.

"River," he said calmly. "I've told you, you need to stay in our quarters at night I was worried about you."

River kept smiling. "Yes," she said, "you worry. You fear for the broken girl, but your fear isn't falling on the right eyes, Simon."

Simon gestured. "Come on, River," he said. "We're going back to our quarters."

Her smile faded. "The same ceiling," she said. "The same wall. Big mind trapped in a metal box, the universe unfolding inside," she said. "I can't go back there."

Simon hesitated, then stepped closer, pushed his way into the small circle and took River's elbow in his hand. Tugging gently, he pulled her with him, one step, then two.

She looked over her shoulder at Jayne. Finally, Jayne looked back at her, and what he saw made him grind his teeth. Big brown, pleading eyes, eyes that said – _how can you let him take me away_?

Despite himself, even Mal was affected. "Listen, doc," he said, "maybe Inara's got some books or vids or somethin' for River to do down in her shuttle. Why don't y'all go down there in the morning and ask her? Maybe the kid's just bored – hell, we're all bored, and we ain't geniuses."

Simon looked at him gratefully. "We'll do that, captain," he said, "if you think Inara wouldn't mind." He turned to River. "You see, we'll find something to do in the morning. Let's go get some sleep."

Jayne hated the way Simon tugged at River, hated the way she resisted him as much as she could without actually fighting him.

Then she spoke. "But Jayne has a question for you , Simon," she said. "Before this boat hits dirt."

Simon looked over his shoulder at Jayne who was standing there in the semi-darkness with his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed. Jayne, who hadn't said a single word since Simon had come down to get River.

Simon sighed as he turned to face Jayne full-on. "Yes, Jayne?" he said. "Do you have a question for me?"

Jayne nearly trembled with the effort it was takin' not to slap the superiority off the younger man's face. "Yeah," he growled, " I gotta question." He stepped closer to Simon, then stopped as Mal made to step between them. "The other night, when she got sick, how'd you know to have that medicine readied up 'fore it ever happened?"

Simon drew back, startled. "What?" he asked.

"You heard me. How'd you know she was gonna get sick?"

Simon looked at Mal, who crossed his arms across his chest and shrugged. "It's a reasonable question, doc," he said. "How _did _you know?"

Simon rubbed a finger over one eyebrow, obviously not sure whether to be incredulous or irritated. Then he looked up at Jayne. "Earlier, I had given River an experimental drug called Scriraftin. It's a selective synaptic inhibitor – it slows down specific portions of the brain. It can have very serious side effects, so I had a syringe of Clositeth on hand to reverse it's effects should she become too unstable."

Jayne's fists clenched harder. "So, _you_ give'er somethin' that made'er sick, is that what you're tryin' to say?" he said. "And then you let everybody on this boat think I done somethin' to her."

Jayne regretted that he hadn't pounded the younger man back in the infirmary when he'd had the chance and a good reason. And yet, when Simon's eyes met Jayne's, for the first time Jayne saw something in them that he could identify with. As Simon spoke, Jayne's hands slowly unclenched, but his jaw stayed tight.

"I was trying to slow her brain down enough to give her a chance to – a few minutes to think like a normal person. The seizures were not considered a grave risk – she was supposed to stay in our quarters, where it was quiet, and nothing could upset her, or cause her brain to begin firing at synapses that were... dampened." Simon shook his head. "Instead, she snuck out while I was helping Reverend Book get some of his things out of storage. The next thing I knew, you were screaming into the com and I couldn't find her. I panicked."

Jayne looked down at Simon, still feeling a sizable urge to cause him pain. "Did it ever occur to you, in all your big thinkin', that makin' her sane for a few minutes at a time could just be mean?" His voice lowered. "Messin' around with her brain with no damn idea what you're doin' makes you just as bad as those bastards you took 'er from. Maybe you oughta consider that when you're shootin' her full o'experimental drugs."

Simon looked at Mal increduously, who shrugged. "It might not be a all bad idea, doc," he said mildly. Then, glancing at Jayne, he added dryly, "Despite where it come from."

After a moment, Simon nodded, then turned to River, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

She smiled sadly at Simon, an expression he was beginning to recognize as her defeated smile. An expression he'd never seen on her face until he'd gotten her back from the Academy, the expression that cut into him the most deeply.

She touched his face, letting the tips of her fingers just brush his cheek and lie there. "Simon," she said gently. "There are many words, and many intentions, many ways to see them. But why is simple." Her glance cut quickly to Jayne and then back. "He hears clearly and knows what he does not understand. He accepts that the unquantifiable is unquantifiable."

Jayne looked over at Mal. "You got any idea what the hell that means?" he asked.

Mal shook his head. "No ruttin' idea," he admitted. "But I think she might mean it's cause you don't second guess her."

Jayne snorted. "I don't second guess her cause I ain't got no idea what the hell she's talkin' about," he said.

Simon glanced at Jayne, while his hand covered River's. "Maybe that's the point," he said. "I don't know." Simon sighed. Looking into River's eyes, he said, "You know I want what's best for you, right?"

She smiled back. "Flowers bloom every spring, Simon," she said. "Even when the weather is uncertain."

"Are you ready to go to bed, now?" he asked her with a bemused smile.

She smiled and turned with him as he began to lead her toward the stairs. Then she turned and looked over her shoulder at Jayne, then the captain. "Good night, captain," she said. Then she turned her eyes back to Jayne for a long moment, saying nothing before she turned with Simon and walked away.

When they were gone, Jayne breathed a sigh of relief, not ashamed for Mal to see him do it.

"I swear, Mal, I don't know what the hell is goin' on," he said. "Why's that kid fixatin' on me?" Jayne turned genuinely confused eyes to his captain.

Mal just looked at him for a moment, then said – "Well, it could be because you're the only one that don't like the two of 'em," he said. Then he smiled. "Course, maybe it's simpler even than that. Maybe she's got a crush on ya, Jayne."

"That ain't it," Jayne said quickly.

Mal's eyes narrowed on him. "How do you know that ain't it?" he asked. "You take a poll or somethin?"

Jayne shook his head and walked back to the weight bench, sitting on it with a huff. "Hell, Mal," he said, "it's probly what you said in the first place – stupid kid thinks I hate'em and she wants to be on my good side." He shook his head. "Wish she'd give up, already – I feel like ruttin' hell."

Mal strolled over to him, a hard smile on his face. "Guilt getting' you down, Jayne?" he asked mean-spiritedly.

Jayne stared at his boots. "No," he said belligerantly. "She told me to get over it."

Mal stopped smiling. "You mean she knows," he said.

Jayne shrugged. "You can't keep nothin' from 'er, Mal," he said. "She's a mind-reader, ain't she?"

Mal was incredulous. "And she just told you straight out to get over it?"

Jayne shrugged uncomfortably. "No.. she said she wanted me to forgive myself – that she was burnin' up from the inside. Hell, I don't know!"

"And from that, you knew she was tellin' you to get over it?"

Jayne looked up, a tortured look in his eye. "Yeah, Mal. Okay. It took a few minutes, but I got it, you know? Is that why she won't leave me alone?"

Mal shook his head, then sat on a crate facing Jayne. "Well, Jayne," he said, "I gotta tell ya – you damn sure understand what she's sayin' a sight more than I do - that's for sure if you got that one. Hell, maybe she really does have a little school girl crush on ya – she is that age and all." He shrugged.

Jayne squirmed uncomfortably. "Damn, Mal," he said. "You're just mean."

Mal stared at him for a moment longer, then narrowed his eyes. "No, Jayne," he said, "that ain't mean. But let me tell you what the shepherd told me once. If you take advantage of that girl, you will go to the special hell. And, Jayne?" Mal stood to make his point. "You'll be relieved to get there by the time I'm done with you, if you take my meanin'?"

Jayne nodded, not looking up. "Yeah, Mal," he said, "I understand."

Mal shrugged. "Then I reckon there ain't no reason to go avoidin' all of us for the rest of the trip," he said. "Kaylee's been worried about you, she thinks you're mad at her or somethin', so.. fix that problem, would ya?"

Jayne nodded again, feeling utterly defeated. "Yeah, I'll take care of it," he said tonelessly.

Mal paused as he was walking away and looked back at Jayne. "Aw, c'mon, Jayne," he said teasingly, a humorous glint in his eye. "There's worse things than a little girl havin' a crush on ya, right?"

Jayne grimaced and buried his head in his hands. "Not really," he groaned, knowing he wasn't never gonna hear the end of this.

Mal grinned and disappeared into the near dark.

12


	4. Chapter 4

**Of Guilt, Sin and Apples - Part Four**

Artemis. It was one of those little 'nothing' planets with one town, a lot of sprawling farmland and some of the strange customs that tended to evolve out on the Rim. Sparsely settled, and mostly cold – not a whole lot of reason to go there, unless you knew folk there And, of course, Mal did. Everyone had assumed that the nine day trip from Persephone had been for a job, but as it turned out over dinner, Mal claimed to be vistin' a friend.

Jayne snorted. He hadn't been sure Mal _had_ friends, leastways, not ones outside of Serenity. In his mind, Mal had exactly one friend, and that was Zoe – and sometimes, he even wondered about them two. They didn't always seem to get along like he figured friends oughta. And she sure had made an interestin' face at the mention of this Peri Callum.

Still, not havin' a job already lined up pretty much meant he'd have plenty of time to search for new work if that's the way he meant to go. Artemis might be sparsely settled, but it was a kick-off planet for a number of other planets in the area, and there was the one large settlement there. Work to be found if a person was lookin'. Of course, he wasn't sure if he _was_ lookin', but things were gettin' a might uncomfortable on Serenity these days.

Serenity and her crew were moored on the edge of the settlement, creatively called Artemis City. Even though it wasn't very large, Jayne had noticed the towers around it that denoted the presence of a service shield – that is, a force field that could come up to protect the perimeter of the city if it were to be threatened. Lots of towns and cities on the Rim had'em – the further out a planet was, the less terraformed it was like to be. Lots of strange and dangerous animals tended to still populate this kind of planet, not to mention the crazy weather – and thus, the service shield.

The shield made Jayne nervous. Even though it was designed to keep danger out, he'd seen that it just as often penned it in. He found the whole idea kinda nervewrackin'. Still, he'd been on more than one planet that had'em, and he figured he could deal with it for as long as it might take him to find work here if he hand to.

Jayne grimaced into a portal, looking out onto the overlit snowscape outside. He would need some tinted googles before he went out there, that was for sure.

Mal's voice broke into his revery. "You still thinkin' about movin' on?" he asked conversationally, leaning next to Jayne and squinting into the frozen world outside the glass.

Jayne glanced at him and then went back to contemplating the snow. "Thinkin' about it, I guess," he admitted. "Don't know if this is the right crew for me – I'm used to a rougher crowd than this."

"Well," Mal said, with half a smile in his voice, "if ya mean 'less civilized', I reckon you might be right." Then he turned to face Jayne. "But you know, I like to think that what we lack in roughness, we make up for with other things. You know, like – loyalty.. and kitchen privileges. You know. Stuff like that."

The taller man sighed and turned to Mal. "Yeah, and I ain't got none – loyalty, that is," he said. "Crews I come up with, it's every man for hisself, and nobody thinks nothin' of it. I just ain't used to crew bein' family. Hell, I got a family – I gotta send'em credits every time I get some. And they don't even like me much."

Mal was nodding even before he finished. "Yeah," he said, "I know what you're talkin' about. Family is a big responsibility, and you don't want none. I get it. But what you don't realize is that responsibility and privilege are two sides of the same coin." He nodded at Jayne. "You think on that some before you decide to head out for rougher parts, would ya?"

Jayne was nodding as Inara and River approached, Inara wrapped in an elaborate confection of black fur and a heavy, dark red cloak. River, by contrast, was wearing what looked like Kaylee's old too-large boots, Wash's old coat which hung to her knees, and a hat that Jayne could have sworn that he had once used to clean out from under the port engine after some sort of nasty space trash had melted there after landing.

Mal turned. "And where are you two lovely ladies headed on this fine," he glanced over his shoulder and through the portal, "blustery day?" he asked, pretending not to notice River's shabby get-up.

Inara smiled. "We're off to buy River some new clothes, since you ask," she said. "Simon has sent us with a handful of credits and instructions to get her whatever she needs now if we can just find some suitable things."

Jayne looked at Mal, who was nodding as if this was the best idea he'd ever heard.

"Shouldn't y'all take Zoe with ya?" Jayne asked. "Artemis is a kinda rough place fer two girls alone."

Inara smiled her polite smile at Jayne. "Oh, don't worry about us," she said. "We'll keep to the populated areas, and if something rude should occur, I'll take care of it."

He snorted and shook his head, looking at Mal. "It ain't a good idea, these two out there by theyselves, Mal."

Inara, meanwhile, was starting to look irritated. She turned to Mal. "Seriously, Mal, there's not going to be a problem."

The captain shifted in his boots for a second, considering. Then – "Y'all can't get no one to go with you?" he asked. "Not Zoe, nor Wash? Hell, where's Kaylee and Simon?"

She rolled her eyes. "Mal," she said, her voice softly modulated, "Zoe and Wash are leaving to spend two days at the local hotel. Simon and Kaylee are working on some project or other. I'm certain that you and Jayne have things to do as well."

Mal was starting to get into irritating her. It was one of the few things that continued to bring joy to his life, as long as she didn't get _too_ irritated. And he could see he still had a ways to go before he was in danger of making her lose her temper.

"Well, what about the shepherd, then?" he asked, a glint in his eye.

She tossed her head, completely unaware of her amused audience. "He's busy, Mal!" she said sharply. "Stop being like this and get out of our way. We're going shopping."

Oh, it was the snappish tone that done it, even Jayne could see it when he saw that frozen look come over the captain's face. Uh oh.

Mal's head tilted to one side, throwing his eyes into deep shadow. Then, without looking, he said, "Jayne, what was you plannin' to do today?"

Jayne started shakin' his head. "Uh-uh," he said. "I'm headed down to the cantina for some- " he was gonna say 'job huntin', but the look on Inara's face stopped him. "Drinkin' and whorin'," he finished with a smirk. Realizing what he'd said, he glanced quickly at River, only to find her smiling her knowing smile as her glance skipped from one to another of them.

Then he looked back to Inara, who was rolling her eyes. "See, Mal? Jayne's busy today. So, if you don't mind" She gestured for River to follow and made as if to open the heavy bay door. Mal beat her to it.

"But I do mind," he said softly. "Jayne!"

Oh, hell

"You're goin' with 'em," he continued.

Jayne straightened up from where he was slouched against the wall. "But, Mal - " he hesitated, then finished. "This is exactly the kind of responsibility I was talkin' about earlier," he said. "This ain't my kind o' work."

The captain strode over to him, leaned in close and looked him in the eye. "Listen, Jayne," he said. "There's worse duties than being asked to hang around with two pretty girls all day. You'll be paid for the inconvenience, and we're to be here a week, so's you got plenty of time to be huntin' up another crew if that's really what you want to do. So, go – get – your – coat."

Jayne went and got his coat.

As he went, Mal turned back to Inara. "I, of course, regret that I cannot go shoppin' with you myself," he said, with a forced grin. "As it happens, I got folk to see today – but I'm sure that the three of y'all will get along just fine." He leaned in closer to Inara. "And please remember what we discussed," he told her. "I may have questions later."

She rolled her eyes again. "Yes, Mal," she said, "your wish is my command."

Mal smirked. "Now, ain't that an idea?" he drawled.

Inara only gave him a look of warning before turning away, missing his wide grin.

As Jayne escorted Inara and River out of the bay doors, Mal said, "You know - why don't we all get together later at the Anchor down on Karlew Street? I'm meetin' up with my friend there for dinner, later – if y'all come, I'll buy!" Inara just smiled and waved and led her party out into the snow.

For the most part, it weren't too bad, followin' 'em around. He kept back a bit, just enough to let 'em feel like they was alone, and to keep 'em from including him in any of their girl-clothes conversations. Once or twice, he'd seen some guy or another givin' 'em the eye, and he'd moved a bit closer. Once he gave'em the glare, they tended to move on. Luckily, it wasn't as though the streets were crowded, or nothin'.

He kept expectin' River to cause some sort of trouble – to run out in the street, like, or to start babblin' nonsense at the top of her lungs, but nothin' like that happened. He caught snatches of her conversation with Inara, and though she was nearly as incomprehensible as usual, she seemed calm. He wondered what the doc had her on, and then tried not to think about it.

When they found the small complex of stores that passed for shopping in this town, Jayne would follow them as far as the store entrance, then would stand outside, waitin' for 'em to come out. There wasn't no way he was goin' in no store for girl clothes and other fripperies – hell, just walkin' through, he was like to knock somethin' over. Still, he kept an eye on 'em from the door or the front window when he was able.

And, he had to admit, watchin' the girl buy clothes was fairly amusin'. It was hard to remember that she'd come from money. The delight she took in buying clothes reminded him of a kid in a toy store. Everything seemed to amaze her, and from what he could make out from a distance, she seemed to be pickin' out clothes based on how soft they was. Inara was findin' it pretty confoundin', he could see. Still, the two of 'em was getting' along just fine, even with the communication issue.

After the second store, River came out wearing a fuzzy, soft-looking, pink sweater with heavy black leggings. Over these, she wore a heavy grey coat with a hood. She was grinning like - well, a crazy girl.

Jayne had to smother a grin himself. Mal was right. There _was_ worse ways to spend a day.

After hitting all five of the clothing stores, they visited a store full of shoes, where River bought practical boots that fit, not to mention a boatload of socks and stockings. When the girls came out, Inara handed him the bag to carry along with all the other bags he had been consigned to carry, then she grinned. "I never thought I'd be saying this, Jayne,' she said, "but would you like some help?"

He looked at her, then at the grinning River. "Yep," he said. "I wouldn't say no to a little help." He handed Inara the shoes and two bags of random clothing items to River. "Y'all ready to head back to the ship?" he asked her, trying not to grin down into her happy face.

Inara smiled again, and Jayne couldn't help noticing that he'd rarely seen her so relaxed. Maybe River's company was good for her, too, he thought.

"Actually," she said, "I think River has a taste for some fresh fruit, and she seems to have ample credits, so we were thinking of stopping at that fruit bar we passed on the way into the complex and having some."

At this, River finally chimed in, looking up at him with a look of decided mischief in her eye. "You owe me my sin back again," she said.

Jayne's façade cracked, and he grinned down at her. "How you figure?" he asked, obviously understanding her.

Inara looked from one to the other, a questioning smile on her lips. They both ignored her.

The girl smiled up at him. "I gave you mine," she said.

"Oh, didja," he nearly laughed. "But I gave it to you in the first place, so how is it I owe you back?"

"I didn't have to share," she said with a giggle.

Jayne considered her convoluted thinkin' for a minute. "You're crazy, you realize that, right?"

Inara gasped. "Jayne!" she said. "That's just cruel!"

With an arch of her eyebrow, River just giggled again.

"Oh, relax, 'Nara," he said. "She don't mind, so neither should you." He glanced up the darkening street, surprised that so much time had passed. "Let's get to it if we're plannin' on eatin' out later. I reckon we'll have to go back to Serenity first so you girls can do your girl stuff before we go out."

Inara raised one eyebrow. "I'm surprised you even know about that 'girl stuff'," she said with a small smile.

Jayne huffed, not wanting to misrepresent himself as polite or concerned. "I got a sister," was all he said, but both girls continued to smile up at him until he just shook his head and gestured for them to walk on.

They ended up getting the fresh fruit to go since they all planned on eating soon. River had a notion to get enough for everyone, so several cups of mixed fresh fruits were added to the bags, and the three of them struggled to carry their load back to the ship. Jayne worried that they might be accosted, carryin' so much loot, but as it turned out, he managed to get the girls back on board without having to do more than glare at a few more men in the street.

Mal met them in the cargo bay. "Well," he said. "Looks like some shoppin' got done – did they lead you a merry chase, Jayne?"

Putting down bags on every flat surface, Jayne sighed. "Mal," he said, "I think I'd rather be fightin'."

This caused Inara to shoot him a slightly exasperated glance. "Oh, Jayne," she said. "Why don't you admit that it wasn't that bad?" She took off her cloak and shook snow off of it.

Jayne looked at River, who was digging happily through her bags. "Yeah," he admitted. "Aside from the cold and the crushing boredom, it wasn't too bad."

Mal laughed and Jayne got a grin in as Inara grimaced and River stuck her tongue out at them.

"I'll see y'all at dinner," Jayne said. "I gotta go recover for a while."

As Jayne made his escape, Mal turned to Inara. "So?"

She looked at the retreating Jayne consideringly. "Well, he definitely sees her as female," she said. "He has an affection for her, too, though he's having a hard time admitting it to himself. And she's definitely flirting with him, though she's hard to read. My professional opinion?" She looked into Mal's eyes. "Something could develop there – but it'll most likely be a long time coming if at all. I'd just let it be for now."

Mal looked at River as she was greeted by Simon and Kaylee who had come down to the bay to see if she needed any help getting her purchases into the dorms. "I just don't get it," he muttered to himself.

Inara shook her head and shrugged. "Who's to say?" she said. "But one thing is for sure, and that's that there is nothing going on right now that you wouldn't approve of. So let it go, alright Mal?"

He turned his assessing gaze on her. "What do you care?" he asked.

She looked down as she unwound the fur from around her throat. "We could all use as many friends as we can find, I suppose," she said. "Why not let them be that to one another?" She glanced back at River. "No matter how unlikely it is?"

He nodded, gazing at the smiling girl himself. "Yep," he said, "I reckon you're right."

Inara breathed a small sigh of relief. _Most_ of what she'd said was true, after all.

8


	5. Chapter 5

Of Guilt, Sin and Apples - Part Five

Mal, Simon and Kaylee had gone already, apparently to stop on the way to the restaurant at some place Kaylee had wanted to check out - a general store with paint and the like that she wanted for Serenity. They had taken the Mule, leaving the rest of the crew who meant to join them later to walk.

Jayne didn't mind so much - he liked to walk, even in the cold. Maybe especially in the cold. He sure didn't mind getting off Serenity, that was for sure. There was times, out in the black, when he thought he'd go crazy waitin' for dirt to walk on.

When he got to the kitchen, he found Inara and Book in conversation.

Inara turned to him as he walked in. "Jayne," she said. "As it turns out, I've decided not to go tonight - I have some things on the Cortex to catch up on. The Shepherd isn't interested in going either - so that just leaves you and River. Do you mind walking her to the restaurant?"

He shrugged, even though his stomach clenched at the thought. "That brother o'hers is the one that wouldn't want me to walk'er over there. You better ask him."

Inara raised one eyebrow. "Well," she admitted, "Since he's already there, I doubt he'll mind."

Jayne shrugged again. "Whatever," he said, but Inara couldn't help but notice that he bit his lip after he said it. She suppressed a smile.

"It's settled, then," she said. "I'm sure both of you will have a good time."

Jayne shook his head. "I ain't babysittin' her all night," he said. "Once we get there, she'll be their problem." His leg jigged up and down as he leaned back against the kitchen doorway.

Inara smiled. "Well," she said smoothly, "I can see you're ready to go. Let me see if River is ready - I left her in my shuttle. I'll be right back."

As Inara left, Jayne sat at the table with Book. "You get the feelin' that somethin's up?" he asked the preacher.

Book raised both eyebrows. "Like what?" he asked curiously.

Jayne shook his head. "Aw, hell, I don't know. Cap'n has this friend I ain't never heard of that Zoe is so anxious to avoid that she and Wash have abandoned ship... Mal made me go shoppin' with the girls today while Kaylee and the doc worked on some - project. Now they've all gone ahead, 'Nara don't wanna eat out, and you're gonna stay with the ship and read your Bible all night. Somethin' just seems off."

Book thought for a moment, then smiled at the big mercenary. "Jayne," he said reassuringly. "I promise you, no one thinks you hurt that little girl - we all know you wouldn't."

Jayne thought back to his actions on Ariel. The shepherd didn't know him that well, did he?

Book continued. "Don't worry. It promises to be a very quiet walk to the restaurant - didn't you notice how sparsely populated the town is?"

Now that the shepherd mentioned it, Jayne thought, yeah. He kinda had noticed that there wasn't too many folk out on the streets earlier. He just shook his head. "Fits in with the strange goin's on, if you ask me," he said, staring down at his hands on the table.

The preacher grinned. "Jayne," he said, "there are times when all men feel the forces of the universe aligning against them. Sometimes it's a warning. And sometimes...?"

At this, Jayne looked up to see the shepherd's mischievous grin aimed over his shoulder. "Sometimes, it's just paranoia."

Jayne twisted in his seat. In the doorway behind him stood... someone who looked vaguely like the waif who he'd followed around town all day. Inara stood just behind her, beaming like a proud mama.

River smiled shyly, skimming her eyes over the room before they came to rest uncertainly on the big mercenary at the table.

She looked... different. She was wearing a heavy satin cheongsam of classic design, dark purple with lavender flowers at the edge of the high mandarin collar and matching embroidery down the side. The color suited her pale skin and dark eyes. Beneath it, she wore black leggings and stylish, slender boots in deference to the cold.

Jayne found himself thinking that he'd rather see her in boots or barefooted than ever strapped into those torture devices that women thought men wanted to see on their feet. Then he realized what he was thinkin' and shook his head to clear it.

As if he cared what the kid wore on her feet. Or anywhere on her body. He looked past her at Inara, caught her staring at him, and stood abruptly.

"What?" he asked belligerently.

She smiled blandly. "Nothing. I'm just bringing the package. It's up to you to deliver it to the restaurant."

River smiled over her shoulder at Inara, and the older woman impulsively kissed her on the cheek. "You look so lovely, darling," she said quietly. "You could have been a Companion yourself."

Jane shifted from foot to foot, nervous at the prospect of walking with the girl. So he scowled.

"Well, we better git on it if we're plannin' to get that free meal the cap'n promised us," he said sullenly.

River smiled and Inara handed her the new grey coat.

"You do look quite lovely," the shepherd agreed, taking in the sparkle in the girl's eye. "Just take care of Jayne, alright?" he grinned.

River spoke at last as she put on her coat. "He's going to get a puppy."

The preacher just smiled, completely uncomprehending.

The walk was every bit as uncomfortable as he'd thought it was gonna be. He couldn't stop lookin' at her. Even bundled into the long, heavy coat, with the hood pulled up and hands tucked warmly into pockets, she looked - well - pretty. There just weren't no other word for it.

On the one hand, he was extremely grateful that she wasn't yammerin'. On the other, he was itchin' to know. Their boots crunched through the snow in silence for a few minutes, then finally he had to speak.

Turning to her, he said, "Why you gotta keep goin' on about puppies, anyway?"

She looked at him, her eyes mildly shocked. "It's you," she said simply.

He sighed impatiently. "Yeah," he said. "I realize that I was thinkin' about a.. . pup when you come down to the bay that night, but - why you gotta keep bringin' up my private thoughts?"

"Abandonment issues," she said clearly. "The puppy is the symbol. You need a puppy, a puppy with big, brown eyes who will love only you.." she finished with a dreamy look in her eye.

He shook his head. "Got no idea what you're talkin' about, as usual," he muttered.

Her head cocked to the side as she studied him. "You know," she said, her eyes as sane as he'd ever seen them.

Then she looked up to the sky, a look of pure joy on her face. "It's snowing!" she exclaimed. She stopped in her tracks and stuck her tongue out, trying to catch one of the big flakes, while he watched - amused despite himself. When one landed there and instantly melted, her smile faded.

"Each one unique and perfect," she said quietly. "Each one destined for destruction - by a boot, by rising temperatures, by the heat of a laughing girl's tongue. The life of the snowflake is very short."

Despite his intent to never understand a word she said, once again, he did understand. She was saying that life was short, and the end was comin' for everybody. Most folk took this for granted, yet he couldn't help but wonder if she hadn't just figured it out - and the thought made him unaccountably sad. He scowled.

The rest of the walk was conducted in moderate silence, the only sound the quiet shushing of the snow and the crunch of their boots in it. He told himself to keep his eyes to the front, to ignore the slight girl by his side, and he succeeded despite the spicy fragrance washing off her skin in the cold air. Some kinda whore perfume that Inara had sprayed on her, no doubt – and frankly, he didn't like it. Sweet scent was something he associated with women who were paid - not with this girl. No, under that spicy scent, she smelled like something else entirely, something he'd smelled for himself when she'd leaned against him in the cargo bay, crying unashamedly against him.

She smelled like apples. She always had. Maybe that's why he'd bought'em in the first place.

As he pondered this, three men approached them in the street, walking in the other direction. He tore himself away from his thoughts long enough to size'em up. Brothers, he thought at first – then, seeing their identical faces, he straightened.

Gene dupes.

Now, that wasn't something you saw every day, especially considering that cloning humans was illegal as hell. Something about cell degradation, flawed dna, stuff like that. Caused a lot of'em to be freaks and mutants, and just plain crazy. He'd seen a few of'em before, usually on planets further out on the Rim than this. Sometimes folk was so desperate for help or kin that they just ignored the law. It rarely turned out right, though, everybody knew that.

He reached out and took River's thin upper arm in his hand and pulled her close to his side as the clones passed them. He saw how their eyes followed his action, but he nodded politely just the same. No point in bein' rude if they wasn't a threat, he figured. They was three on one.

One of them nodded back, and they all kept walking, going in their opposite directions.

He missed how the girl at his side smiled up at him as he glanced back over his shoulder to see if any of the gene dupes was looking back at them. They tuned the corner and disappeared.

Up ahead, he spotted the restaurant – apparently the only business in the district which did any night business at all. Above the doorway was a neon anchor symbol.

"C'mon," he muttered, still pulling her along. "This's gotta be it." As they neared the door, it opened, and an older Asian woman stepped through, dressed in a flowing kimono. Bowing, she smiled and waved the two of them through the door.

Just inside, another woman offered to take their coats – River gave hers up easily enough, but Jayne preferred to keep his on. It hid the enormous handgun that rode in the small of his back. Even though Mal had assured him that a gun wouldn't be necessary, Jayne felt it was better to have one and not need it than to need it and not have it. Given a choice, he would always have one on him.

He quickly spotted the capt'n, along with Kaylee and the doc at the same time River sighted another unusual sight in the corner of the room – an aquarium. With a delighted smile at him over her shoulder, she rushed to examine it more closely, and more slowly, he followed.

Hell, he thought – it _is_ worth a closer look. Not like he'd seen so many aquariums in his life.

How in the hell violence erupted, Jayne didn't know. One second, he was lookin' at the aquarium in the corner of the room over the top of River's head, the next, bullets was flyin and people was screamin'.

Without thinkin', he grabbed her arm and pulled her between him and the wall, shielding her with his body as he pushed the two of them toward a side door exit. As they pushed through the main room full of panicked people, he glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see Mal fall, a huge chest wound blooming in the middle of his chest.

Then he was distracted by a group of crazy lookin' gene dupes rounding the outside of the building just as he and River exited, all of 'em wavin' guns and lookin' for blood.

What in the blue hell had Mal gotten them into?

Running the other way, he pulled River along, his hand still wrapped around her upper arm. When she hesitated, saying – "The captain -" He just kept movin'.

"Captain's dead, girl," he said, pulling her back in front of him and holding her back against him as he pulled his gun and peered over her head toward the corner at the end of the alley. "We gotta get back to the ship and warn the others."

He felt her head shaking against his chest. "Not dead," she said. "Not dead, but – hurting.."

Jayne didn't doubt her, he was learning better.

"Good, then," he said. "We'll still have to get back to the ship and tell the others – we'll buy him back if we need to."

He began to step out of the alley, and River stopped him. "Not yet," she said quietly. "Wait."

Jayne waited. As he did, he realized that River's new coat had been left behind in the restaurant – and it was snowing.

"Don't worry," she said softly, looking up at him over her shoulder. She grinned like it was Christmas morning, and despite the grim circumstances, Jayne was tempted to grin back. Instead, he scowled at her and looked back up the street.

"Can we go now?" he whispered roughly.

"Not yet."

Then they rode by, two floatercars full of those same yahoos – all gene dupes, it looked like. Three or four different sets.

Jayne ground his teeth as he realized at least a portion of what was going on. The dupes were all ganged up. And Mal's 'friend', the pretty, obviously trouble-prone Peri Callum had called Mal down into the middle of some kinda gang war – worse, one involving crazy clones. Wonderful.

"Alright," River whispered. "Let's go."

Jayne took her hand in his and began to pull her along the street, from shadow to shadow, keeping a lookout behind and in front at all times. After a moment, he realized that she was tugging his sleeve. "What?" he asked, distracted.

"Not back to Serenity," said.

He was concentrating so hard on the possibility of detection that he nearly missed it. "What?" he said again.

"They're waiting there - "

_Go-se._

"Alright," Jayne said roughly, "Where, then?"

"Empty buildings all around," she replied, and Jayne realized that it was true. What looked at the center of town to be a prospering community, just a littler further out was nearly empty.

"Expecting to catch us all inside the towers," she said, plainly referring to the service shield around the town. Even Serenity was parked inside the damn thing.

"Gotta get beyond, get out of the trap," she said.

He agreed. Where had he seen the last tower? Down behind the shopping center where they had spent most of the day . Only a few blocks away.

"Can we make it?" he asked her, his eyes already tracking the direction and distance.

"Kaylee, the captain, and... Simon," she answered. "Trapped. Wash and Zoe separate. Shepherd Book on Serenity. We have a chance if we disregard the others."

He glanced at her. "Yeah," he said. "That's what we're gonna have to do – when this stuff all blows over, we can meet back up with'em, or they can find us. I got a tracker on me."

She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes solemn.

It began to snow in earnest.

The two of them made their silent way across the corner of Artemis City that housed the restaurant they'd been in when the shooting had started, avoiding the gene dupes they encountered on the way. The gangs did seem to be looking for them – why, Jayne had no idea. Ransom? It seemed likely. It wasn't uncommon for small, failing communities like this to develop such strategies to survive.

Even though it was his instinct to take the lead, Jayne found himself following River as often as not. He had to admit, she did have an uncanny ability to know where the gangs were, and knew how to avoid them. He tried not to think about it, though, as he tried not to think of her other talents. Her abilities made him nervous and self-conscious at the best of times – at a time like this, it could drive him crazy and endanger both of them if he allowed himself to think about it.

Instead, he focused on the kinds of things that he might be able to actually affect. The fact that it was freezing outside, for instance, and the stupid girl had left her coat in the restaurant. Hell, her arms was startin' to turn blue.

Finally, he pulled his own coat off as the two of them waited for a Mule to pass on the street, full of clones. As he crouched behind her in the shadows, he wrapped his coat around her from behind. When she looked back at him questioningly, he growled. "Oh don't get all het up about it," he said. "Cap'n would have my hide for new boots if I let ya freeze out here - I'm gonna want it back when I get too cold, anyway. In the meantime, warm up a little."

He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw her smile as she pulled his coat tighter around herself. As for him, he couldn't understand how such a skinny, tiny thing as her had stood the cold for so long. He was only a minute out of his coat and he was freezing already. Still, a man suffered in silence. And he meant to.

It wasn't long until she led him to the base of the tower he'd seen earlier.

"You think the shield is on?" he whispered.

She looked at him, then cocked her head at the tower and shook her head. "Not yet," she whispered softly. "Net not tightened, the prey in unknown waters still.."

Jayne didn't waste any time doubting. He grabbed her hand and pulled her past the awkward metal structure, toward the freedom of the mostly unoccupied buildings beyond.

Here was where the poorest people had lived, when the city had been thriving. Now it was empty, as far as Jayne could tell, but he didn't want to hole up too close to the tower itself. On the other hand, he didn't want to go too far out, either – just in case there was indigenous wildlife to deal with.

Finally, he settled on a small, prefabricated metal building that sat on the outside edge of what looked to be an abandoned factory of some sort. With the factory workin's around'em he hoped he'd be able to have an undetected fire.

Once inside, Jayne was relieved to see that his own instincts hadn't failed him. He'd landed the two of them in what appeared to be probably an old foreman's shack. Inside, they found a stove that ran on electricity – and there was none, of course – a wood burning stove with no wood, and a small sleeping shelf. A sleeping shelf wasn't much different from Jayne's berth on Serenity – it was literally a shelf inset into the wall. About a yard wide and a yard and a half long, and a ceiling clearance of less than two feet, it was designed to gather body heat and keep it close. It even had an old, moth-eaten sleeping bag still inside of it.

Jayne locked up the door as best he could, and searched for something he could light on fire, for vision if not for heat. The one small window in the side of the shack didn't let in much light.

River stopped him with a light hand on his forearm, instantly recalling in his mind the night in the cargo bay when she had stopped him in his tracks with the very same gesture.

He pulled away. "Gotta find some light," he muttered.

"There's nothing," she said quietly. "No light, no heat."

He huffed. "What, now you can see in the dark as well as bein' a big genius?" he mocked, the cold and the stress getting to him. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he might have seen her smile as she pulled off his coat and handed it to him.

"Share the shelf," she said. "First deal with the environment, then with the enemy. Surrounded by cover."

He thought he understood what she was sayin'. She meant for the two of 'em to huddle up on the sleeping shelf and conserve body heat – deal with the environment. And in the morning, maybe they'd face off with an enemy they could see.

He sighed. It wasn't a bad plan – it just made him mightily uncomfortable.

In the darkness, he felt her small, cold hand wrap around his and tug in the direction of the shelf.

After the slightest hesitation, he followed.

She pushed him in first, and even though it made him a little claustrophobic, Jayne complied, folding his long body into the too-short sleeping accommodation as best he could, his back pressed against the far wall of the shelf, the ceiling of it only a few inches above his face. Then, River curled into the shelf with him, curving her backside into the curve of his body. Without thinking, Jayne opened up the coat he was now wearing and pulled her as far inside of it with him as he could, pulling the edges around her. She pulled up the sleeping bag, which smelled vaguely of rotten food, and sealed the two of them under it inside Jayne's coat.

Her cheek rested on his arm, the crown of her head resting comfortably under his chin. His other arm hovered for a moment, then he wrapped it around her, his gun pointed toward the door of the shack.

Nothin' to it, he thought to himself. Just two folk afraid of freezin' to death is all it is.

He heard her make a small sound, and wondered for just an instant if she was cryin'. Then he realized. She had giggled.

"You better not be readin' my mind," he growled at her, irritated beyond words that he couldn't keep anything private from the brat.

She giggled again. "No," she said. "The mind is not - "

"A book," he finished for her, remembering their very first conversation. "But you gotta come up with somethin' better than tryin' not to look," he said. "Cause folk got a right to their thoughts, even their loud ones." It seemed easier to talk to her suddenly, in this quiet darkness as the two of them began to warm up inside his coat. He ran his hand up and down her bare arm, trying to warm it even more, while trying to ignore the satin smoothness of her skin against his rough palm.

Then he realized she wasn't makin' a sound.

"You hear what I said?" he asked quietly.

After a moment – "Yes," she said. "I understand. The mind is a private place, not given to wanderers in the darkness"

"Uh yeah," he said uncertainly. Then – "You warmin' up?"

Her voice took on that cold tone that he hated. "Body temperature within acceptable parameters."

"Go to sleep, then," he said gruffly. "I'll stay awake awhile and make sure nothin' comes in, but I think I heard the shield go up, so we're probably pretty safe from the dupe gang for now."

"Safe for now," her voice echoed in the darkness. He couldn't be sure if she was agreeing or actually saying that they were safe. He sighed. It didn't matter. He'd stay awake as long as he could, maybe until dawn.

He awoke some time later, River kicking and moaning in his arms. He was a fast waker, it was one of the things which had allowed him to live as long as he had.

"River," he whispered in her ear, leaning forward until her hair was under his cheek. She twisted against his hold, which instinctively tightened, holding her against him in the dark.

"No!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "No! Nooo!! I won't do it!"

"River," he whispered again, his voice rumbling in his chest. He searched his mind in a panic, trying to think of something reassuring to say. Finally, realizing he knew nothing about soft or gentle words, he settled on just her name. "River – River Riveriveriver."

Slowly, she stopped struggling against him, gradually relaxing into his hold.

"That's a good girl," he breathed in her ear.

After a long moment, she stilled in his grasp, then relaxed. "Simon?" she asked uncertainly.

A sharp emotion knifed through him.. Jealousy? Envy?

He brushed it aside for the moment. "No," he whispered, his voice a thread in the darkness. "It's me, Jayne." He breathed for a moment, then asked. "Are you alright?"

After a moment of silence, she said, "All in darkness now"

Jayne had no idea whether or not she was talking about their situation or her state of mind.

"Where are we?" she asked ,childlike, her voice breaking.

Shit.

Jayne had been all in favor of the doc not druggin' the girl, but now he realized the price.

"River," he said quietly. "We're on Artemis.. We went to meet up with the Captain and Kaylee and the doc at a restaurant.. There was some shootin' right after we got there - before we even sat down – do you remember?"

She twisted in his arms and faced him in the dark. He could hardly make out the shape of her face, but he felt her breath, warm on his cheek. One of his hands tangled in her long hair, the other rested against her back, still holding his gun. Through the satin of the dress she wore, he felt her breathing, and she felt suddenly fragile in his arms, as if she might break if he tightened his grip on her.

"..we ran," she said, her voice a thread in the darkness. "In the dark. It was snowing. We were instinct in obscurity, slipping around corners and padding silent-footed through a chiaroscuro world"

Jayne wondered if what she was saying made sense to her.

"Dupe gangs was lookin' for us," he said, trying to ground her in recent events. "We found this place outside the net to spend the night, but there wasn't nothin' to keep warm with, so we decided to share my coat and the sleepin' bag Do you remember that?"

Abruptly, he felt her small, cold hand on his face, tracing first the curve of his cheekbone, then the line of his jaw.

"I remember," she said, dreamily. "You said - Just two folk afraid of freezin' to death is all it is"

He grimaced. If he'd ever had any doubt at all that he was an open book to her, this definitely banished it for him. "No," he said softly, cringing to think what else she might see in his mind. "I didn't say that..."

Her warming hand curved to his cheek, and feeling extremely uncomfortable, Jayne switched his gun to the other hand and reached up to gently remove it, bringing her hand to his shoulder and holding it there.

"Predators," she said softly, "curled together in the dark..."

What did she mean, he wondered.

"Killers of men," she said clearly, answering a question he hadn't phrased. "Unpredictable. Unstable. Cruel. But part of nature, not evil."

His hand absently stroked her hair. "I doubt you've kilt any men, baby girl," he said quietly, his tired voice rumbling in the dark. "You go back to sleep now - dawn can't be far away."

At least he hoped not - most terraformed planets had a night and day cycle roughly the same as that of Earth that Was, but some had long days and longer nights. He wasn't sure about Artemis.

Her voice came to him again. "Darkness for ten hours," she said. "Two hours to go until we see blood."

Her words shot fear through his belly. "We ain't gonna see no blood," he said. "I'm gonna turn on this locator and someone'll come and get us - that's all there is to it."

Her hand pulled from beneath his on his chest, and traced up to the hot column of his throat, where it rested against his pulse for a moment, skin to skin. Then, further into his coat, down over his t-shirted chest, to his side.

"What're you doin' girl?" he asked gruffly.

She shifted suddenly in his arms, lithe as a cat, pushed her thigh between his, then reached down between his legs. Covering the bulge there, she said, "What's this?"

Shocked, he jumped back as far as he could in the smallness of the tiny alcove and reached down to roughly grab her hand and push her away.

"Gorramit, girl!" he nearly shouted. "You done lost your damn mind if you think that we're doin' anything like that!" His hands wrapped over her thin shoulders, and he shook her, holding her as far from him as he could. "That," he said angrily, "is any man's reaction to bein' pushed into bed with a pretty girl. It don't mean nothin'. And don't you go thinkin' it does. You ain't nothin' but a half-grown girl, and I ain't even a boy - I'm a man - a man damn near old enough to be your pa. Don't you ever put your hands on me like that again, you hear?"

She only hung limply in his grip, saying nothing for a long moment. Then he heard her. "I've killed," she said softly. "And I've died. Not a child, hardly human..."

The catch in her voice undid his shock at her bold action. That's all he needed, he thought, was for her to start cryin'.

He sighed, trying to understand her words, his hold on her gentling. "You're havin' a bad night, is all. We'll just... forget this happened, alright?"

Slowly, she relaxed against him, and despite his better judgement, he let her curl against him, her arm wrapped over his side under the coat, her head tucked again under his chin - only now, her breath pulsed over his throat. His raging hard-on stayed in exactly the state it had been in since he had awakened with the gorram girl in his arms, but he held her anyway, waiting for her breathing to slow and steady..

It was gonna be a long few hours.

When he thought she was asleep, he let out a long shuddering sigh. He hadn't counted on anything like.. that happening - had assumed the girl was completely innocent. Even though he tried not to think on it, he couldn't help himself.

All the thoughts he'd been holding back flooded into his mind. The images of her - standing in the darkness in her white shift, her soft, wet cheek against his bare chest. Her, standing barefoot on the catwalks, staring into his eyes. Her in his arms as he ran through the ship, in a fury of panic while she convulsed against him. Her, in Serenity's kitchen, handing him the half-eaten apple, saying mischievously, "Finish my sin." Her in the street, laughing up at him in the snow, telling him he owed her the sin back again, snowflakes caught in her dark hair.

His hold on her tightened as she moaned softly. She had seen bad things, he knew that - had had bad things done to her, too. She might even have done some of the stuff she said, but it was hard to tell. Her words were convoluted and hard for him to understand, and he cursed himself that he couldn't make more sense of her.

And her mind readin'. That was hard to take. Only by the grace of god had she not blurted out something that would get him in real trouble - but he knew eventually she would. Not only that, but he'd done some bad things in his life - ugly things that a girl like her shouldn't be exposed to, not even by accident. What if he got to thinkin' on those things like he sometimes did, and she picked up on it? It wouldn't be good for her, he was pretty sure of that.

And now, this.

She had propositioned him, he was pretty sure of that, even if she was crazy... And even though he hated like hell to admit it, it had excited him. Hell, he was still hard, just layin' here thinkin' about her hands on him - and not just on his pecker, but anywhere on him.

Could he go back to Serenity and act like nothin' had happened? What if she spoke of it? It seemed likely that the crew was startin' to think there was somethin'... unwholesome goin' on with him and the girl. What if something like that really did start up?

He quelled the urge to growl, not wanting to wake the source of his frustration. He told himself it was to keep from havin' to deal with her crazy ways, but the truth was, he wanted her to sleep. Hopefully, she could sleep peaceful- and if she didn't, he would wake her again, no matter how crazy she got.

He'd stay awake until dawn, he knew that for sure this time. Her every small movement, her every breath in his throat, seemed to send fire zipping along his nerve endings, and that wasn't particularly conducive to sleep.

On the one hand, he was miserable... but on the other, he wouldn't trade this moment for anything. Because he was being strong - strong for her... and strength was the one thing he knew for a certainty he was good at.


	6. Chapter 6

_She swam in hot waves, nothing solid, no up or down. Just one silent space, in the distance... She pulled herself to the quiet desperately, fighting not to drown in the heat and the fear and the hatred._

No, it was all wrong. Not liquid. Thought. And emotion. This scent was the scent of ... home? Home is.. the cool metallic scent of metal. Of blood. Deeper, then… Of apples. Yes. She loved apples and the scent of them took her to ...

No. _He_ loved apples. _She_ loved peaches.

Not a rock at all. A man, a man of instinct. A man who loved apples. The scent of them reminded him of home. Not the home of metal and oil and weapons and blood. But…

_Home._

It wasn't right, her being here, she suddenly realized. It was an ... invasion.

She tried to pull away, to go... anywhere - but was surrounded on all sides by the maelstrom of scent and sound and the omnipresent taste of blood and the hot waves and the place where nothing was up or down or bright. She pretended to cover her eyes and tried to make herself small, so small as to be invisible. He wouldn't have to know she'd ever been here if she could just make herself small enough and quiet. The scent of apples lulled her.

_She felt the gun resting between her shoulder blades and sensed the mind outside the door. Still, she crouched, silent and fearful in the brightest, quietest corner of his mind, a farm on an autumn day. Even the knawing hunger in his belly hadn't stopped him from seeing the perfect beauty of that day._

She saw a distorted reflection - a boy not much older than she was - tall, well-built, though not yet with the heavy musculature of maturity. Eyes as blue as the sky he stood under, dark hair surprisingly long and heavy.

_The mind outside the door paused._

_The gun still lay heavy between her shoulder blades._

The steady breath of her bunkmate might have convinced her that he slept, except... he didn't. Though he had not sensed the potential danger outside the door, he was awake if not alert.

She took a deep breath, breathing in his scent, her nose nearly flush against his thinly shirted chest inside the heavy coat. His heat swirled through her, warmed her, became a part of her. For a moment she was a creature of pure sensation, the arm on his side bent over his caged heartbeat, her palm flat in the center of his back, his scent in her nose. Her mouth watered as she imagined the undoubtedly salty taste of him- then -

One second, the gorram girl was muttering in her sleep, tossing her head minutely, making Jayne wonder if it was time to wake her again. Then, with a deep breath, like a wraith she was gone - replaced by a rush of cold air. She rolled out of his arms and landed on the floor in a crouch that raised the hackles on his neck. She wasn't dreamin' - somethin' was out there.

The darkness was fading a bit, making him aware that it was nearly dawn at last.

Her head turned minutely toward the small window on the left side of the room, and before Jayne could wrap his head around her intent, she dashed toward it, silent and deadly, the dark purple cheongsam glinting black-on-black in the near dark.

The window seemed to melt before her dimly lit hands in the grey pre-dawn light, and like a ghost, she was through it, as silent as air.

Jayne rolled out of the shelf, and crabbed to the side of the door, gun in hand. He assumed that she meant to waylay an intruder at the door outside - when he heard something, he meant to rip the door open and assist.

He waited.

Finally, just as he was about to give up and burst through anyway, a faint thump. With a sigh of relief, he pulled the door open.

It was still snowing. Five feet away, a dark shape in the snow. Then slowly, she stood and pulled up a smaller shape with her.

Jayne blinked.

It was a kid. A...a little kid - maybe ten years old? He wasn't sure, not bein' an expert.

With the kid's wrist in her grip, River walked past him, back into the shack, her face blank. He wondered then if she really _was_ awake, after all.

Then he put on his game face. If the kid knew anything, he was gonna hafta tell.

Jayne had no illusions about the usefulness of fear. Fear kept a person alive, if it was applied correctly. Fear could make a person do things they never thought they could or would. Fear was the key to making everything go his way if he could inspire more than he felt. He felt pretty confident that he could intimidate the kid.

When he turned into the small room, he found River pulling something out of the kid's coat - a heat-flash! Jayne wasn't sure he'd ever been so happy to see one - it was a pocket-sized device meant to heat a small space for a time. Coincidentally, it made light. Lots of folks who lived in the cold areas of the 'verse had 'em lyin' around - they was handy devices in the cold. Many a life had been saved by'em, that was for sure.

When River tapped the switch, it obediently came to life and illuminated the small room they stood in. It was even less accommodating than he'd thought in the dark. Nothing there in the gray room but the sleeping shelf, the counter next to the non-working electric stove and random pieces of garbage. And the girl. And the kid.

Stalking across the small room, Jayne snatched up the stinking sleeping bag and tossed it to River, who caught it and wrapped it around herself in one graceful movement, her breath puffing out in a white cloud.

Then Jayne's eyes went back to the child, who looked only at the heat-flash. He scowled mightily, then grabbed the kid's arm, just hard enough to get his attention.

"What the hell you doin' out here?" he asked roughly.

The boy looked up at him then, saying nothing. Jayne noticed that the kid's left eye had a misshapen pupil and was two shades lighter brown than the right. A strawberry birthmark marred one cheek. Another gene dupe, he thought.

"Well?" he asked the kid, giving him a light shake.

River's hand gently fell on his where he held the child's arm. When his eyes shot up to hers, she only looked at him pleadingly.

He scowled. Damn womenfolk always fell in with the kids, couldn't convince'em otherwise.

He tried to ignore her. "Cat got your tongue, boy?" he asked the kid, giving him another shake.

River's hand still lay atop his own.

"A tool," she said softly. "A tool with a soul, a mistake. Break the tool, free the soul..." She stared down at the child who still had said nothing. Then she slowly pushed back the hood that covered the child's hair. Red hair. It tumbled out, long and tangled.

Jayne dropped the kid's arm as if he'd been burned. It _was_ a clone - and it was a girl.

His mind flashed back to his two quick sightings of Mal's friend, Perri Callum. Once over the com while Mal had been talking to her, and his one quick glance at her in the restaurant just before the gunfire started.

This was a clone of _her_.

"..What the hell..?"

River's hand caressed the child's cheek gently, then she knelt in front of the girl and smiled, placing her palms firmly on the child's cheeks. She bowed her head until her forehead was nearly touching the little girl's.

"So few words here," she said. "Only...hunger...and fear. Sorrow and loss." She was silent for a moment, then - "Memories in the flesh!" she cried out, looking shocked.

Her hands dropped abruptly as she stood and looked at Jayne, who was just staring at this event as if he was worried that she would grow horns at any moment.

She looked up at him wonderingly. Her mind had touched on something so... unbelievable, so unlikely - that she could hardly believe it herself. "All copies," she said, her eyes wide. "Every one of them. Every one with a... spark - every one the same, yet...not."

What the hell? Jayne was more than stumped, he was completely in the dark.

The girl child standing quiet between them cut her odd eyes from River to Jayne and back again. Then, with almost no warning, she dashed for the door.

Jayne lunged and grabbed the back of the kid's coat, pulling her up off the floor and into the curve of his arm, where she kicked and struggled like a feral cat, all in absolute silence.

He was afraid he'd break the kid, for a truth, but didn't know what else to do with it. If he let it go, it would surely go tell someone where they were, and then he'd be dealing with crazy dupes and crazy River Tam. He wasn't sure if he was quite up to it just yet. He just wanted some hot tea and a private place to empty his aching bladder.

Abruptly, he felt the kid begin to relax against his hold and looked up to see River making gestures with her hands - sign language! One piece of the puzzle fell into place for him. The kid was deaf, that's why it was so quiet.

"Tell it we won't hurt it if it don't give us no trouble," he directed River, not having much hope that she would be able to communicate much better with the kid than she did with anyone else.

River looked up. "Sarah," she said clearly.

Jayne shrugged. He didn't need to know the dupe's name. All he needed to know was whether or not that service shield was up or down and whether or not it was safe to turn on his tracker. It was possible that someone in the town could follow it besides Serenity - and he wasn't even sure Serenity would answer. Hell, only the preacher and Inara had been aboard last night - and River'd said that the dupes was waitin' there. Possibly, they might have to fight their own way on board and rescue the others instead of waitin' to be rescued themselves.

And damn, he was hungry.

As he considered, River gently wrapped her arm around the child. Meeting his eyes, she tugged, and he let go of the kid, letting it slide to the floor and into River's grasp. She pulled the girl to the counter, where both of them sat down on it next to the heat-flash, their hands moving in a blur.

Jayne shifted from foot to foot and sighed impatiently. If he was gonna be outta bed, he wanted to do something. Something besides watch crazy River talk to this kid-dupe with her hands.

He tried not to think about the night just past - it served no purpose. Yet, he couldn't help himself. The more distance he got on it, the less comfortable he was with the night and how he had passed it with the girl in his arms. Now, in the dawn light, it seemed impossible that he had felt such... soft feelin's for her - even though he knew he'd only have to scratch the surface of his brain to feel'em again. And he didn't like it. Bein' soft was like to get a man killed, like to get_ him_ killed.

And then there was her... grabbin' him. Just the thought of that made him get a warm feelin' in his lower anatomy, so he moved his brain on to other things, like whether or not she was like to discuss that with anyone. Damn, he didn't wanna get left here on this stupid planet full of crazy gene dupes! He might be leavin' Serenity soon, but he'd prefer it to be on a planet where he could find work and not be dealin' with whatever the hell was goin' on here.

Finally, impatiently, he said - "So, I figure the shield's down, right? We need ta find Wash and Zoe, is what. Cap'n is out of it, even if he ain't dead - doc and Kaylee ain't fighters. We need Zoe."

From the doorway, a laconic voice said, "I'm touched. Did you just say you needed me?"

Jayne spun to face the door, only to find Zoe leaning there, collar up against the cold, gun on her hip.

Jayne's jaw dropped. "How in the hell...?

Zoe stepped in, shrugging. "Tracker," she said, as if he was stupid.

He shook his head. "I never - " Then his eyes shot to River, where she continued to speak with the child.

River looked up at him, her eyes sad. "So many dying," she said. "Poison air..."

Jayne looked around suspiciously, as if he might be able to actually see poison in the atmosphere. "Readin's all checked out 'fore we landed," he said. "Ain't no poison in the air, can't be."

She only arched an eyebrow at him as her hands continued to speak with the child's.

Zoe's eyes took in River and the strange child assessingly. "What's goin' on, here?" she asked.

Jayne shrugged. "Hell if I know. Crazy girl jumped outta bed, went through the window and come back in through the door draggin' this kid," he said. "Now she's spoutin' crazy-talk. As usual." Jayne tipped his chin at Zoe. "What about you? What's the sitch?"

Zoe's brow arched when Jayne mentioned 'bed', but she refrained from commenting. "Snafu, as usual," she said. "Dirt factions at war with one another - captain took a shot, which I guess you know. Simon fixed'im up pretty good, but it's like to be awhile before he's leavin' his bunk."

Jayne shifted from foot to foot, glancing from Zoe to River, who was smiling at the dupe, then back again. "Reckon cap'n took a dim view o'me duckin' out, huh?" he said, scowling. "Had to look out for this girl, though - she's crazy. 'Sides that, I thought the cap'n was dead when I seen 'im hit the floor like he did."

Zoe only looked back at him, her face impassive. Then, the child caught her eye, and she smiled down at her. "What's your name, little one?" she asked.

The little girl only stared up, silent.

"Just a dupe," Jayne said. "It can't hear nor speak, as far as I can tell." He gestured vaguely in River's direction. "Crazy girl over there knows the sign language, but there ain't no way to tell if her hands is as crazy as her mouth is."

After a moment, Zoe only arched one brow at him. "Really?"

Jayne just looked at her and shrugged.

Zoe sighed. "Alright," she said, "bring the child with us for now. We're headed back to Serenity."

For a second, before he had time to stop himself, Jayne felt a flash of pure jealousy at the wide smile River threw at Zoe. So he scowled.

Back on board Serenity, River disappeared into the med lab with the dupe while Jayne and Zoe went to see Mal in his bunk where he insisted on staying. Jayne wondered how a man with a sucking chest wound got down a ladder, but then thought about staying in the med lab. Not particularly hospitable. He'd rather risk it his own self rather than spend the night there.

"Hey, Mal," he said, as Mal's eye fluttered open. "I see ya got y'self shot – again."

Mal's eyes narrowed. "And I see that even with all that taxin' runnin' away, you seem to be in pretty decent health."

Jayne had expected this. "Look, there wasn't nothin' I could do there – right off, when I seen ya fall, I thought ya was dead, til the Tam girl told me different. I was headed back to Serenity with her, so's I could get some help, but she told me them dupes was here. So then we decided to find a place to lay low until we could get some help. At some point, I reckon she decided the coast was clear, cause she activated the tracker, and Zoe used it to find us." He narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't runnin' off – well, I _was_ runnin' off, but I had a plan."

Mal stared at him assessingly. "Sounds a sight more like _she_ had a plan and you was just along for the ride."

Jayne ground his teeth. "Well," he said, "you're like to think what you will."

Mal's eyes cut to Zoe. "What do you think, Zoe?" he asked.

For a moment, Zoe stared at Jayne, her eyes unreadable. Then she shook her head. "I think he did the right thing, sir," she said.

Jayne nearly fell over, he was so surprised.

Mal was unfazed. "Ya think?" was all he said.

"Yes, sir," she reiterated. "Jayne has come to terms with trustin' the girl's instincts, and it may have saved their lives. He's right that there weren't nothin' he could have done in the restaurant, and I reckon if any of ya had been in danger of dyin' the girl would have known it. So, yeah – I think he did the right thing."

Mal considered for a moment, then sighed. "Reckon you're right, Zoe," he finally said tiredly. "Why don't y'all go have some breakfast and let me have a nap. When I get up, we'll decide what we're gonna do, alright?"

Zoe stepped up to Mal's bed, put her hand on his bare shoulder. "Should I send the doc down?" she asked softly.

His eyelids slowly lifted, and he smiled. "Naw…" he said. "Why don't ya.. send Inara down to speak wi' me for a minute, though?"

Zoe smiled. "Sure thing, sir."

Despite his stated desire to be present for the meeting, no one bothered Mal.

Wash as usual, made an attempt to boil the situation down to it's bare bones.

"So, let me get this straight," he said to everyone in general, since they were all gathered around the table in the mess. "Just about everyone in the city is a clone? The doc that lived here cloned himself, then died, and his clone kept on clonin' everyone else?"

Simon nodded. "I know it sounds incredible, but with everyone either dying or leaving, it must have seemed the thing to do." He shrugged. "To someone, anyway."

Wash wasn't finished, though. "So, what was all the shooting about, then?"

This is where Zoe stepped in. "Well, near as I can tell, there's two kinds a' thought here – there's those that would like to ask the Alliance for help with their problems, and those that're pretty sure that the Alliance will kill every last one of'em. Those that want help, called us. Those that don't want Alliance help, shot us."

"And what exactly is the problem?" This from Inara.

"Well," Simon answered, "there's a mold here that thrives in lung tissue." At everyone's generally startled look, he rushed to reassure them. "Oh, it would take months to become established, so we're not at any particular risk," he said. "The settlers were here for years before it mutated and it was a while before any of them started showing symptoms. When they did start showing them, they began dying very soon after." He shrugged, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "It's likely that the doctor cloned himself when he realized that he was infected – most likely, he'd waved the Alliance for help and been denied. Then, when he died, his clone began doing what he knew how to do – which was to clone. The first generation were all cloned as adults, fully vat-grown. When they found that the mold acted even more quickly on them than it did on their predecessors, they must have thought that bringing out a generation of children might slow the mold a bit, or give the children a chance to develop an immunity to it. Unfortunately – "

"They died."

Everyone looked at River, whose eyes were glassy.

"Only a few lived more than a few days," she went on, her eyes turned toward the medlab where the young girl named Sarah lay. "Just dying more slowly."

Kaylee's hand gripped her mouth. "_All_ the… kids.. H- how many?"

Simon just shook his head and shrugged.

All of them looked up at Zoe's loud sigh. "And that ain't all the problem, either," she said. She shook her head, looking from one troubled face to another. "Ain't no help comin' for these folk, y'all gotta know that.. Alliance figures out what happened here, they'll wipe every one of'em off the face o' this planet, then they'll close the planet down. There ain't no hope for'em."

"Probably not much even Alliance doctors could do for them anyway," Simon threw out. "The kind of damage this does to the lungs, it would likely be nearly impossible to reverse even in strong healthy people, but in this weakened clone-stock…" He shook his head.

"You mean – there ain't _nothin'_ we can do to help these people?" Kaylee said weakly, her eyes huge.

Wash looked at her sympathetically, while Inara placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"Is there anything we can do to make them more comfortable?" Inara asked.

Jayne, meanwhile, kept his mouth shut. Well, except for the fact that he was shoveling food down his gullet as fast as he could. Damn, he hated bein' hungry. Seemed sometimes that once he got that way, it took him days to get the feelin' outta his belly. So, he shoveled in noodles while he listened.

As for himself, he wasn't sure if he even cared about what was goin' on here. Hell, he was pretty sure he _didn't_. He was pretty sure, too, that there was a reason the Alliance didn't recognize gene dupes as bein' human. It seemed likely to him that somethin' created from the crappiest dna of a man shouldn't get a chance to be called human – hell, that's why it was illegal to make dupes.

He just shook his head as the others talked. Then he saw her. She was lookin' at him. _Right at him._ He immediately felt guilty.

"What?" he asked her, belligerent.

For a second, no one reacted, just looked from one of them to the other.

River approached him where he lounged against the wall, eating his noodles. "You're afraid," she said clearly.

He straightened and dropped his chopsticks into the bowl, glaring down at her. "I ain't scared o'nothin', little girl," he stated, deliberately forgetting the shock of fear that had clenched his guts when she had suggested sharing last night's sleeping accomodations. "Just 'cause I know this ain't my fight and there ain't nothin' we can do here anyway don't make me afraid. Just makes me … practical."

The two of them glared at one another for a long moment, while the others looked on. Then, just as Zoe took a breath to break the stare-down, River pounced, cat-like. She grabbed Jayne's head between the palms of her hands.

The bowl of noodles fell to the floor with a crash.

He never thought to fight her. He fell in slow motion to one knee before her, her hands still gripped to the sides of his head, his mouth slightly open as he looked up at her in horror.

It happened so quickly that no one, not even Zoe, had a chance to react. As quickly as she had grabbed him, she pushed him away, and Jayne slid down the wall behind him until he was in a sitting position, a look of absolute horror burned onto his face.

Simon grabbed River and pulled her away as Jayne continued to stare at her.

"River! What have you done!"

The others began to converge on Jayne, trying to ascertain what damage had been done to him. As he slowly began to rise from the floor, Simon shook River to get her attention. "What did you do?" he demanded.

She looked into her brother's eyes. "I gave him her life," she said, her voice breaking. "He should know."

Simon was trying to be patient, but something told him that when Jayne recovered, he'd be wanting blood. He had no time for niceties. "Just tell me exactly what you did," he said.

River's eyes overflowed as she met Jayne's gaze. "I gave him her memories," she said brokenly. "Sarah's"

At his narrow-eyed glare, River reached out to Jayne, only to have him step forward and violently slap her hand away.

At her soft cry, he growled and turned to Simon. "You better put yourself to keepin' this girl's hands offa me," he snarled, "and I mean in every way. She lays hands on me again, I'm liable to put a serious hurt on her, and I ain't bluffin' - you get my drift?"

Simon nodded, drawing a breath to say something, but Jayne cut him off. "I don't want to see her hangin' around me no more, either," he continued. "If I do, I'll teach her if you can't. _Dong ma_?"

Kaylee, ever the peacemaker, put her hand on Jayne's arm, hoping to calm him some. He turned on her with a growl, nearly lashing out. Instead, he pushed her out of his way and turned for the door, striding through it before anyone could stop him.

When River made to follow him, Simon forcibly pulled her back, then pulled her sobbing face into his shoulder.

_What the hell had just happened?_

Once in his bunk, door locked, Jayne stepped back and forth in the small space once or twice before slamming his fist into the wall violently – once, then again.

What had the damn girl done to him?

He gripped his head, then sat on the edge of his bunk, grinding his teeth to keep from crying out. The witchy girl had put - thoughts – memories – into him that wasn't his. It was the girl, the deaf-mute, he understood that. And what she knew was at complete odds with the rest of his mind. Her despair nearly overwhelmed him, and for the first time since he was a boy, Jayne felt tears burning in his eyes.

God damn River Tam for doing this to him – he'd kill her when he saw her again, he swore he would.

He groaned, and pressed his hands over his eyes. Oh, the cold and the dark! Why had he gone there? What had drawn him to them – _her to_ _them_, he meant? It was the child's thoughts. The child's hunger that burned in his guts like no other hunger he'd ever felt in all his hungry life.

He groaned again, then pressed his hand over his mouth to keep it silent. He couldn't do this, he couldn't –

Lying down on his bunk, he curled up, his knees to his chest, and closed his eyes. Trying to breath deep, he tried to calm himself and think the thoughts he knew were his own thoughts.

After a long while, he slept.

Hours later, while Serenity slumbered, River crept down the ladder in Jayne's bunk. Overriding the security code on his door had been child's play for her.

He didn't move as she approached, but she saw how he curled into himself, and she wanted to cry. She knew what he felt – she felt it all the time, the feelings of more than one person all wrapped up in one little brain. Too much knowledge, too many facts – too many of them at odds with one another. So hard to find oneself in the maddening center of voices and selves. She knew.

She sat on the floor and reached for him, laying her hand against his back softly. Closing her eyes, she dove, dove into the darkness of another mind as she hadn't done since the Academy. Doing this could hurt a person, she knew that – she had ripped more than one mind to pieces like this. So she was careful, so very careful not to touch. She searched for one specific place, one cool quiet place…

The farm on an autumn day. Yes, there it was. So bright, so perfect – so right.

He was there, as she had known he would be.

_The boy turned, but didn't recognize her. How could he? He wouldn't meet her for years, yet. Perhaps she hadn't even been born when he'd had this dream…_

She held out her hand to him, but he only turned away, looking out across the water of the small pond. This was where she'd seen his reflection, before.

"I've come," she said. Her voice echoed between them, even though she stood so close.

She was so grateful that here, if nowhere else, she might be understood.

He looked over his shoulder, and there were tears in his young/old eyes. "I'm so hungry," he said.

She smiled a tremulous smile full of sorrow. "I'll take away your hunger," she murmured. "I'll give you something else in it's place, I promise."

"Why?" he asked, plainitively.

She lay her hand against his back (an echo of the metal room behind them in the darkness of the future) and stroked him lightly.

"You're alone because you choose to be," she said, as if this was the answer to his question, and it seemed perfectly logical in this dream place of bright sun and his unnaturally darkened eyes.

And as she stroked his back, her hand came away dirty, and she rubbed this detritus on her own arm where it clung. She liked how literal his dream symbols were, felt relieved that his mind wasn't going to trick her. She continued to stroke the darkness from him.

"You have fear," she went on. "And it keeps you alone – but you don't have to be." She turned her face to the sun and felt it's warmth on her cheeks.

He looked back over his shoulder at her, his eyes lighter now.

"Do you understand?" she asked.

The boy under her hand only shrugged, but when he turned back to her, his eyes were the wild blue of the man he would someday be. She gazed on him, wanting to remember that this sad, hungry boy lived inside the ruthless man they all knew.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

Her smile faded, but she wouldn't lie. "I was angry and I hurt you," she admitted. "I.. I've come to take that hurt away and ask you to forgive me."

Slowly, the boy who would be Jayne lifted his hand, already man-sized, and touched her cheek.

She turned her face into his hot palm with a sad, hungry sigh. She would remember that once he had been like this. That once he would have touched her by choice…

His hand slid softly down her throat, where his fingertips lingered on her fragile collarbone. He leaned in, his mouth close to her ear.

"… _I'll never forgive you," _he whispered savagely. Then he pushed, with all his might, and she fell, fell into the black as panic closed over her head and he stepped out of her desperate grasp.


	7. Chapter 7

Of Guilt, Sin and Apples Part 7 

When he woke, he felt better. Not well, but better. Still furious. He couldn't remember when he'd been so pissed off and hadn't killed someone over it.

The thing, whatever she had done, had worn off during the night. The kid's thoughts no longer competed with his own for dominance.

He sat up in his bunk, threw his legs over the side, and sighed heavily, running his hands through his short hair. Then his eyes fell on a scrap of material, caught in the rough metal legging of his bunk. Frowning, he reached down and pulled it free. No bigger than the width of two fingers and the length of his palm. Soft, off-white. He brought it to his nose, scenting it like a bloodhound. Impossibly, it smelled of apples.

It dawned on him like the sun rising on a dark planet. It was part of her nightgown, the same one she'd worn down into the bay that night.

She'd been there.

Fury surged in him anew as he remembered how she had grabbed him yesterday and for a moment, a part of him had been pleased, pleased that she'd touched him in front of the others, even though he'd known it would cause trouble. Then, the mad burning behind his eyes as she'd done whatever it was she had done, the sensation of falling. The fear, the panic, the absolute terror. It had taken everything he'd had to make it back to his bunk without screaming.

He growled softly to himself, imagining her throat between his hands. _Gorram her_, he thought.

Then he thought of the child lying in the medlab, the clone, Sarah. He'd had a unique look into her life, and though the method of it had him considering murder, he couldn't help but sympathize with the little thing. She hadn't done nothin' in her short life but suffer, and though he despised the method by which his knowledge had come about, he wished he could help. He wished he could help all of them, 'course he did – but he knew it wasn't to be. Clones didn't have no rights. It was illegal to have'em, to hire'em, to socialize with'em. Some passed as the genuine article, of course. He'd heard how some rich folk had themselves cloned – called'em toolmen. If a man had enough money, he could have his own toolman, who might be a servant, a convenient source of donor guts, or even a stand-in for social or business functions. But you had to be licensed in order to get one, and even then, the tool didn't have no rights. That's just the way things was.

Jayne ground his teeth. It wasn't right to make'em, he really thought that. But once they was made, was it right to treat'em so wrong-like?

He felt another surge of resentment as he considered this. If it weren't for River Tam puttin' the kid's memories in his head, he'a never in his life thought of such things. This was her fault.

He shook his head, trying to shake off his anger. He was still hungry, he realized, and slid off his bunk. Still dressed from the day before, he hesitated for a moment, then headed up to the mess.

As he moved through the hallways of Serenity, nothing felt right, for some reason. Everything seemed… somehow unfamiliar, as if he were seeing it for the first time.

He frowned. It was the kid's impressions, he realized. Not her actual thoughts, but his mind remembered them. He shook his head, praying this was an effect that would wear off with time.

In the mess, Inara was making tea. As he entered, she turned and looked him over. After a short assessment, she smiled at him. "Hello, Jayne," she said quietly. "How are you doing ?"His eyes narrowed on her. Since when did Inara care?

"Are you alright?" she asked him, and he realized that he saw genuine concern in her eyes.

For him.

He didn't know how to respond for a minute, it had been so long since anyone had shown any concern for him, or even been polite, truth be known - then shook himself out of it. "I reckon I'm alright," he said. "I'm hungry, though."

She smiled. "Sit, and I'll fix you something."

Now, _this_ was something new. Never, in all the time he and Inara had shipped together had the two of them ever exchanged more than a polite word with one another. Occasionally, a few not-so-polite words.

He looked at her suspiciously. "Why?" he asked bluntly.

Her smile faded, and she shrugged. "No reason, really," she said, turning back to her teapot. "Just thought I would, since you've had a rough couple of days."

"How long was I out?" he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows raised. "… A couple of days – I thought you knew…"

He shook his head and snorted. Two days, layin' up in his bunk like a invalid. It galled him. No damn wonder he was hungry. He stared down at his hands.

"It's alright," he heard Inara say softly. "Simon told me what she did to you – it must have been quite a shock."

Jayne looked up at her. "I don't wanna discuss it," he said. He meant it to come out as a snarl, but instead it just came out kinda tired soundin'.

Inara smiled gently. "I'll fix you something to eat. You'll feel better."

On the one hand, Jayne didn't like it one bit, being the object of someone's pity. On the other hand, he wasn't about to say no to a meal that one of the girls volunteered to fix for him. Hell, if Inara wanted to fix his breakfast every day for the rest of his life, Jayne didn't have a problem with it. Maybe he could get her to mend his britches next time he ripped'em up. Huh. Prob'ly not. 'Course – this probably meant he was gonna hafta be nicer to her from now on, but he figured he could bring hisself to be nice to a woman who had made him breakfast when he was feelin' poorly.

Quietly, Inara set about her business, and after a moment or two, she set a cup of tea by his hand, along with a bottle of water. "I thought you might be thirsty," she said. And he realized that she was right. He _was_ thirsty. Two days unconscious might do that to a man. He drank deeply.

"Thank you," he heard himself say, as if from a distance. He couldn't remember the last time he had thanked anyone for anything, but then again – he couldn't remember the last time anyone had done anything for him that deserved thanks. Unless you counted Mal not flushin' him out the airlock as they was leavin' Ariel. Maybe he shoulda said thanks then, too.

Just as Inara was placing a plate of protein pancakes in front of him, Mal wandered into the mess, slowly pulling one suspender over his shoulder and grimacing.

"Well, if it ain't sleepin' beauty," he drawled, just as Inara placed sythetic maple syrup on the table next to Jayne's hand.

Mal paused for a moment then, looking from Jayne to Inara, then squinted like he sometimes did when he was startin' to get irritated.

Inara only looked back over her shoulder at Mal, her face all innocence.

"Are you makin' _Jayne_ pancakes?" Mal asked.

Inara shrugged, her pink satin clad shoulder glinting softly in the soft, warm light of Serenity's kitchen. "What if I am?" she asked.

Mal shook his head. "Nothin'," he said. "Just wonderin why _Jayne_ rates pancakes."

Inara shook her head with a half-smile. "You are such a child sometimes, Mal," she said, turning back to the stove.

"Yeah," he said, "but I got _shot_, and you didn't make me no pancakes! Hell, I got stabbed once, defendin' your honor, and you didn't even make me pancakes then!"

She sighed. "How many do you want?" she asked, resigned.

Mal plopped down at the table to Jayne's right. "Six," he said. "What I don't finish, Jayne'll eat."

Jayne nodded, his mouth too full to argue. He felt hungry enough to eat three times that much, truth be told.

Inara only sighed and retrieved more ingredients from the cupboard.

Breakfast ended up being a pretty quiet affair, since once Inara finished with the pancakes, she vacated – leaving all the dishes, Jayne noted. He reckoned he wasn't too good to do his own dishes, considerin'. Hell, he'd even do Mal's plate, too – wasn't every day someone made him breakfast. And he had to admit, just as Inara had promised – he did feel better.

As the two of them finished their pancakes, Mal looked Jayne over assessingly. "You feel all… recuperated?" he asked the big man quietly.

Jayne's head turned to the side as he considered what to say, coincidentally avoiding his captain's eyes – a fact not missed by said captain. Finally, turning his attention back to his plate, Jayne said, "I'm able to work, I reckon." Then he glanced quickly up at Mal.

"You gonna tell me what happened between the two of you out there?""Mal asked. "What made'er think she could do what she did?"

Jayne's gaze met Mal's, as earnest as Mal had ever seen it. "I swear to you, Mal," he said quietly, "nothin'… wrong… happened." Jayne shook his head from side to side. "But – somethin' - somethin' did happen." When he looked back at Mal, Jayne just seemed puzzled. "I don't know… _what_ happened," he said. "We was – cold. Runnin' from them crazy dupes. She seemed… kinda normal. Then, not so much no more.. and then she - well, she grabbed me."

Mal only looked at him. At Jayne's intense look, he finally got what the mercenary was talking about. His eyes got large for a moment, then he nodded. "Okay," he said. "And you did… what?"

Jayne pushed his plate away. "I didn't do nothin', Mal," he said tiredly. "I – I told her not to even think like that, I told her it wasn't never gonna happen - " Jayne visibly ground his teeth. "I don't know," he said, finally. "Maybe I hurt her feelins' or somethin' – maybe she wanted to get back at me."

Mal looked at him steadily. "You tellin' me everything, Jayne?" he asked.

Jayne considered. Was he tellin' everything that happened? Did it matter that he had felt so soft for her for those few hours in the dark? Did it matter that, unable to see her in the darkness, he had lightly traced the planes of her face with his fingertips? That he had smoothed her hair away from her face? That he had smelled her, filled his lungs over and over with the scent of apples that clung to her, no matter that it wasn't possible that she could smell like apples no more? Did it matter that he had tightened his arms around her as she had cried out softly in her sleep and felt bad for the pain that she re-lived every night in her nightmares? Did it matter?

Finally, he looked up at Mal and nodded. "Yeah," he said resolutely. "I'm tellin' you everything."

(some time later)

"So," Mal said, stretching back on the sofa in Inara's shuttle. "Wanna tell me what breakfast for Jayne was all about?"

Inara continued her present project, which looked to be origami, and only glanced up before answering. "I feel – badly for him, I guess," she said quietly. "He has a very hard road ahead."

"Whatdaya mean?" Mal sipped his tea, being very careful as he set down the fragile cup on the small table between the two of them.

Inara shrugged. "What River did to him – it was – well, to a man like Jayne, it was actually rather cruel," she said thoughtfully. "What she did will make him a better man. Unfortunately, that which makes a man better is often very painful." She glanced back at Mal before turning her eyes back the origami. "I just have a feeling that Jayne is only a fan of pain when he's dealing it – not feeling it."

Mal snorted. "Reckon that's true of most folk, don't you?"

Inara grimaced and balled up the paper in her hands decisively. "Actually," she said, "I'm not really a fan of pain at all."

Mal pondered this for a moment before asking, "You think that's what she meant to do?" he asked. "Make him a better man?"

Inara considered. "Perhaps it wasn't a conscious decision," she said. "But why else force a strong man to feel empathy with the weak?"

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, then she began folding a new piece of paper.

Mal considered for a moment. Then he snorted. "I reckon Jayne could use a heads-up regardin' how it feels to be the weaker person in a situation," he said. Then he smiled ruefully. "And I can see how he might hate the person who showed 'im what's what." He looked over at Inara's downcast eyes. "You reckon he'll hate 'er?"

"It will go one way or the other, Mal," Inara answered. "He'll either hate her with every fiber of his being – or, eventually – he'll love her … completely." She sighed. "Before it's all over – I suspect both."

A week passed, in which time, shepherds was fetched and dropped off with the clones on Artemis. In the meantime, the clone child, Sarah, died in the medlab.

He stood with the others in the cargo hold while Book conducted his ritual, and tried like hell not to let the others see how tore up he felt. As he stood there, looking on the small, silent body of the girl, he remembered her memories, no longer stuck in his head, but faintly still there – copies of copies.

He knew how she'd gotten the acid scar on her right hand and how ashamed she'd been of the birthmark on her face. He wished that he'd told the kid that the mark was kinda intrestin', that he sorta liked it. But, he hadn't quite been able to bring himself to actually go down to the medlab and speak to her, afraid that someone would see him there. That someone would question him about his reason for being there, and that he'd have nothing to answer. So he'd stayed away.

While Book said his words, Jayne looked across at River, only to see her clinging to Simon's hand . In fact, he noticed resentfully, it looked like the doc had it all - Kaylee in one hand, River in the other, though it wasn't clear who was comfortin' who over there. What with Kaylee cryin', River's bottom lip stickin' out, and the doc's jaw set like he was grindin' his teeth something fierce, Jayne had to admit they all looked like he felt.

Still, he barely managed to stand there long enough to let Book have his say, and then he turned and left, fists clenched. It weren't his way to feel much grief, much less to share it, but he had to admit to himself that if someone had been there to hold his hand - particularly her… he mighta let her, even though she was the cause of his pain.

Days passed, and then they turned into weeks. Jayne continued to do what it was he did, and the Tams kept their distance, though River's eyes often fell on him at the dinner table. He wasn't good at hiding his feelings, and whenever he caught her looking, his jaw would clench. As often as not, he'd leave the table without a word to anyone. Kaylee had asked him so often if he was alright that he'd finally told her to mind her own business, earning him black looks from nearly everyone on board. The shepherd had asked him twice if he wanted to talk and even Zoe asked him once if he was plannin' on getting' over it. He had only continued loading freight until her continued silence had made him turn to her and say "You ain't got no idea what it is you're askin' me to get over. So drop it." Zoe had narrowed her eyes on him for a second, and then she'd only nodded and gone back to work.

He didn't think about leavin' anymore, though, that was the odd thing. He was actually worried that Mal might decide to replace him – no matter that only a few weeks before, he'd been planning his getaway. Now, for whatever reason, he didn't want to go. He didn't want to deal with the Tams, but he didn't want to leave Serenity.

He spent a lot of time in his bunk. He'd taken to readin', and found the more he did it, the easier it came to him. He might even ask Wash and Kaylee to set him up with a cortex connection one of these days. He also spent time workin' out, though he was careful to do it only when someone else was in the bay. He didn't mean to be caught alone by her again if he could help it.

'Course, it didn't matter how much he avoided her, there was the dreams. He couldn't avoid those.

Every night, it seemed, his mind dwelled on her somethin' fierce. When he went to his bunk, he tried to think on anything but her, but as soon as his eyes closed, he dreamed… and when he dreamed, he dreamed of her. He relived the few moments they'd spent together over and over. Sometimes his mind embroidered on them, added scenarios which had never happened, until he wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't. And when he saw her around the ship, those dreams rose up in his mind and he could almost taste her on his lips.

It only made him angrier and more determined to avoid her and her damned brother at any cost.

Except, of course, there's only so long a mercenary is gonna be able to avoid the only doctor on board.

It happened on Persephone, which was kinda ironic. He'd been getting' some much needed time away from Serenity at one of his favorite watering holes, a down-and-dirty little hole in the wall called Jack's Place. At Jack's a man could everything that a man like Jayne Cobb might want. Drinks, women, guns and entertainment. And even though he knew better than to get too wound up in a place like Jack's – he drank too much. And that, inevitably, led to fightin', which usually led to someone getting' hurt. This time, it was him.

He stumbled into Serenity in the middle of the night. Everyone was either gone or sleepin', 'cept Wash, who opened the door for him, and he was on the deck. With a minimum of words exchanged between the two, Jayne stumbled in and made his way to the medlab.

Gingerly, he turned on the lights and leaned against the counter, bracing himself with one hand. Pulling his shirt up with the other hand, he assessed the damage, and hissed. It was pretty bad.

He'd bled plenty – his shirt was soaked and the front of his pants as well. He'd left a pretty blood trail that was gonna need cleanin' up, that was for sure. He looked around and tried to remember where the doc kept his bandages. Gingerly, he opened one drawer, then another. The two knife wounds in his belly were burnin' somethin' fierce, and he stopped to take a deep breath before continuing his search.

"Can help you, if you want," came a voice from the doorway. Her voice, of course. Of course.

He glared at her over his shoulder, not even surprised that she had found him. Hell, he'd known if he ever wandererd around this boat in the middle of the night again, she'd catch him. And she had.

"Thanks," he growled, glaring at her. "I think you've helped enough. Now, piss off."

She stepped through the doorway. "You've lost a lot of blood," she said casually. "Bleeding everywhere. Might be internal bleeding. You could die." She said this as if she might be commenting on the weather.

He turned and straightened, trying not to grimace as he did so. "Don't sound so broke up about it," he grunted, still looking for the bandages. Where in the hell were they?

"Already broken, everybody knows that," River replied seriously. "Can't be more broken than broken, can I?" She took another step toward him. "Bandages won't help," she said.

He turned back to her angrily, and when he did so, he felt something tear inside him. It felt as if molten lava had been poured into the deeper wound. He clutched his gut tighter and groaned. After he caught his breath, he looked up to glare at her, but she was gone

Despite his true desire for her to go away, he was surprised for a second. Then the bright light of the medlab closed in around him and faded to black.

_He knew there was somethin' wrong when he realized he was nekkid.. Strollin' down the hallway to his bunk in the bluish half-light of the night cycle, bare-assed nekkid, a gun in each hand.._

_Hunh._

_He looked around to see if anyone was about, but luck seemed to be on his side. Quickly, he ducked into his bunk and descended, hardly challenged at all by the logistics of descending a ladder with a gun in each hand and nowhere to holster either one of 'em. _

_Hearing a sigh at his back, he spun, both guns at the ready, only to find River (danger) standing there by his bunk, wearing that white thing he'd seen her ghosting around the ship in on previous nights. _

_On the one hand, it was an innocent piece of clothing, something a young girl could wear with no self-consciousness merely because it was comfortable and pretty and suitable for sleeping in. On the other hand, it was as lightweight as starshine. When she moved, like she was doin' now, it shifted over her skin, caressing and releasing with each movement until he could almost see through the damn thing, and his fingers itched to know if it was as soft as it looked…_

_She moved toward him, one long dancer's foot after the other until she stood directly before him, looking up at him from beneath her hair. Slowly, her hand moved until it rested on one of his, gently pushing the gun down. _

"_Not your enemy," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. _

_Deliberately, her other hand pushed his second gun down, her dark eyes still fixed on his lighter ones. _

_Then her fingers lightly circled his heavy wrists, began to crawl up his arms in slow inches, barely touching him. Her eyes finally pulled from his to look where her fingers traced a scar on his upper arm. _

"_Bullet," she whispered, her voice so soft that he leaned closer to hear her and nearly choked on the scent of her. Apples. "Betrayed."  
_

_He remembered that. First time he'd ever been shot. Sure had made him mad, he remembered that clear enough. Bein' backstabbed by a friend wasn't somethin' a man ever forgot._

_She had moved on, though, to the long slash mark that started just at the point of his shoulder joint and arced gracefully over onto his shoulderblade._

"_Lander accident," she intoned. _

_He grinned. His daddy'd damn near killed him over that incident, but some things were just worth the price ya payed for'em._

_Then her fingers circled the point of his shoulder and found the scar on his chest, nearly invisible now where Simon had given him fine stitches and a weave. Only a practiced eye, or someone who knew where to look could see it now. Still, her fingers traced over it unerringly. _

"_My fear," she said simply. _

_He covered her hand on his chest with his own, and looked down into her eyes. He frowned. "Been hurt lots worse in my life," he said. "Why, this wasn't hardly more'n a scratch on my tough hide."_

"_Hurt you," she said softly._

_He nodded. "Yeah, you did," he admitted. "People got a tendancy to do that to one another." He pulled her hand down and placed it on the wound in his gut that even now spilled blood down his leg, though he hadn't noticed it until now. "Take a look at this, girl," he said. "Now, that's a real wound."_

_She only looked back at him, her eyes full of shadows in the half-light. _

_Then, completely unfazed by his injury, he touched her cheek, only to find out if it was as soft as it looked…And it was – so soft that he stroked his fingers over it again, so lightly, afraid that his rough touch was unwelcome – and say what you would 'bout Jayne Cobb, but he wasn't a man for forcin' his attentions where they wasn't wanted._

_She smiled up at him shyly and licked her lips, suddenly making his mouth water to lick them for her._

"_Scars on me, too," she said softly, "spelling out a different kind of story…"_

_His fingers stroked down her cheek to her jaw, then lightly skimmed over the shell of her hear. So soft._

"_Yeah?" he said, huskily, hardly understanding her words now, his whole mind and body concentrated on the tips of his fingers. "Wh-what kinda story is that?" _

_The room just seemed to be getting' dimmer and dimmer – not so's it was dark, just so's everythin' pale seemed to stand out, and everything dark seemed to be in shadow. Her skin shone like the inside of a shell his ma had shown him once when he was a kid, and her hair laid like black smoke over her shoulder. He touched it as she spoke again, faintly surprised to find it so warm and smooth._

_She looked down, then glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye. "Story of innocence," she said, with a gentle smile. "A tale of violence."_

_His fingers traced back down the side of her throat. "Yeah," he said. "And mine's just a story 'bout stupidity." He smiled down at her. "I c'n see what you mean about a different kinda story."_

_His fingers, so large, so dark against her throat – pushed her hair back over her shoulder, baring the white skin beneath. He traced the skin there, back up to her ear, and gazed down at her, only to see her eyes close and her head tip to the side in invitation… And suddenly his world narrowed down to this moment, to her heat, her skin, her scent._

"_Tell me what you want," he whispered huskily, her closed eyes and faint smile almost more than he could take. More than anything, he didn't want to misread this moment, wanted only to hear her say that she wanted him to put his hands on her, wanted with everything that was in him to hear her say that she wanted him as much as he wanted her in this nonsensical moment of darkness and light and utter silence.. _

_His other hand curved into her hair and cradled her, the curve of her skull fitting perfectly into his palm. It was as if the two were parts of a puzzle, brought finally together by circumstance, innocence, violence and stupidity. As if the two of them had been brought together by their scars, which were ultimately no more or less than maps written in pain that each of them had followed inevitably one to the other._

"_Tell me," he whispered again. _

_He watched as her eyelashes fluttered and her eyes drifted open. "I want you to touch me," she said, her voice as dark and tempting as sin. "Make me real. Taste me," she murmured. She leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her slight form against him, finding her now, impossibly as naked as he was._

_He lifted her high against him, his arms crossed over her smooth and slender back. For a moment he thought she might disappear in his arms, and his hold tightened as she leaned up to speak again, this time her hot breath curling into his ear._

"_I want your forgiveness," she whispered. "You're burning me up inside…"_

Jayne jerked awake in the medlab, sweating and panting. He ground his teeth in frustration, even as his nostrils flared and he breathed deep. Impossibly, he could still smell her warm scent, wafting around him.

When he tried to sit up, the doctor leaned over him, placing on hand on his shoulder.

"Stay where you are, Jayne," Simon said briskly. "You don't want to ruin all the work I've done on you."

Jayne looked around for River, knowing that where Simon was, River wasn't far.

Simon, fiddling with his instruments, looked over his shoulder to find Jayne looking.

"She's not here," he said, and Jayne lay his head back, trying to relax.

Simon approached with his ever-ready pen light, flashing it into Jayne's eyes. Whatever that had to do with a gut wound, anyway. After shining the light in his eyes, Simon pulled the sheet down to take a look at Jayne's wounds.

"You'd be dead right now if it wasn't for her, you know," he said conversationally, as he tested the tighness of the bandage. "You lost a lot of blood," he continued. "Took some damage to your liver, too – but I was able to sew it all up. The news is – you're going to live."

Jayne grunted, not sure what to say.

Simon only looked at him for a moment before shaking his head and turning away.

Jayne wondered for a second what the doc's problem was, then – "…I 'preciate you… sewin' me up, doc," he said. "Wasn't too smart 'o me to get cut like that."

Simon turned back, a slightly shocked look on his face. After a moment, he marshalled his expression. "Well," he said, "you're welcome. From both of us. Because if River hadn't gotten me out of bed, all that would be left of you this morning would be your bled-out corpse."

Jayne looked away. "I ain't gotta thank her," he muttered, "since she's the cause of it. Leave'er out of it."

Simon turned back to Jayne, and leaned casually against the counter in the medlab, crossing his arms across his chest. He arched an eyebrow. "Alright," he said. "By all means, please tell me how River is responsible for you getting yourself stabbed. This should be interesting."

Blue eyes clashed with blue for a second, then Jayne looked away. "Aw.. forget it, doc," he said. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Simon was adamant. "No, Jayne," he said. "I think you do want to talk about it, or you wouldn't have brought it up. So let's hear about it. Maybe you'll feel better once you whine about it for a while."

Jayne wouldn't have been any more shocked if the young doctor had kicked him in the gut. He tried to sit up, and failed. His limbs felt heavy and awkward, and his ears started to ring.

"That's the anesthetic," Simon informed him calmly. "It's wearing off, but it may be an hour or so before you can… well, wring my neck, for one."

Jayne fell back weakly. He glared at Simon. "I ain't no whiner," he growled. "What she done to me wasn't right – and more than that – it wasn't called for. I din't do nothin' to her," he said, suddenly bewildered. Somehow, that thought hadn't even ocurred to him yet. He hadn't even done nothin' to her, and she had put that stuff in his head. He continued. "Kept'er warm all that night, kept'er safe. Din't take advantage of her, though she damn sure wanted me to – and the very next day, she – she -"

Simon finished for him. "She put that child's thoughts, her life, into you. And it must have been quite a shock. Maybe it even hurt. Is that what you were going to _whine_ about?"

Jayne's voice rose to a shout. "You ain't got no gorram idea what the ruttin' hell you're talkin' about!" Awkwardly, he struggled to rise, and nearly fell off the bed. Simon pressed him back with a hand to his chest, completely unruffled.

Then he leaned in close to Jayne, his eyes narrowed. "I have more of an idea than you might think," he answered Jayne's accusation. "What she did to you – putting the experiences of another person in your head for a few hours – it was shocking for you. But you should stop and think for a minute about what life is like for River. Can you even imagine how much information she has in her head?"

Simon backed up a step and clenched his jaw for a moment. When he spoke again, he was calmer, but his eyes were serious. "So, yes, Jayne," he said. "What she did to you was… not kind. I'm just saying – her judgment might not be the best. The same as yours on Ariel. But I think she had her reasons for doing it."

Jayne's brain was busy trying to absorb all that the doctor was saying to him, but he thought he understood. But what was that last?

"What reason?" Jayne asked. This was important to him. If he knew why she'd done it, maybe he could forgive her.

Simon sighed heavily. "Believe it or not," he said tiredly, "I think she did it because she likes you. God help us all."

He came down to the mess nearly every day to use the large table there to clean his guns, or do whatever needed doing. He told himself it was because there was enough space there to spread out. It damn sure didn't have nothin' to do with the fact that River would inevitably arrive after he'd gotten comfortable and sit down across from him and take out her sketch book.

Every now and then, someone would wander into the kitchen on one errand or another, but the oppressive, even competitive, silence broadcasting from the big table eventually sent even Kaylee and Book running for cover. Even Inara wouldn't enter the kitchen when they were there.

The two of them sat at the big table in the mess – he cleaning his guns, she drawing. Both, silent. It had been this way for days, the two of them drawn together in utter, frustrating silence.

He would admit, only in the privacy of his own mind, she had scared him. The girl had scared him more than he'd imagined he _could _be scared, had damn near scared him out of his mind. Yet, still, he sought her out.

In silence.

She drew while he cleaned his guns. Sometimes, he heard her draw a breath, and thought she would speak. His own breath would stop as he waited – then, nothing. He would sigh, the moment would pass and silence would – continue. He'd be damned if he'd be the first to talk – hell, he didn't even know what he'd say.

It made him angry. Why couldn't _she_ just say something? Then he could forgive her. Couldn't the damn girl read his mind?

He looked up as she turned the page in her sketch book, then went back to the handgun he was working on, the one he called Glory. She was a beauty. Sleek, slender, and dark. Deceptively delicate. Full of death. Just how he liked his weapons. He looked up as he heard her sigh.

She didn't look up, so her voice surprised him. "I miss – water," she said quietly, so quietly he almost wondered if she'd spoken at all…

He pretended to keep working on Glory for a minute to see if she would say more, but she appeared to be absorbed in her drawing.

Finally, he spoke. "There's water aplenty if y're thirsty," he said gruffly.

Her head came up, and her eyes were sad as they met his in the cool light of Serenity's kitchen.

She smiled a tentative half smile as brown searched into blue, then went back to her drawing.

"No," she said softly. " I miss… lakes. Baths. Fountains." She closed her eyes. "I miss the sound of water… I miss rain."

And it crossed his mind, not for the first time, that it wasn't natural for a body to find hisself moored out in the black for months or even years on end, with no weather and no seasons to tell the passage of time by.

She shrugged, self-deprecating, as she drew. "I danced once," she continued, her voice so soft that he had to strain to hear it. "I danced in the rain… A warm, summer rain." Her hand eerily continued it's work, even when she looked up and her eyes met his again. "I danced, and Simon came out, and he laughed.. I danced until I was soaked and exhausted, until I fell to my knees and the rain fell on me like the story of life…" Then her brows lowered and her eyes returned to the paper. "Then my mother came, and – and all the bluebirds flew away…"

She shook her head, and her eyes slowly moved higher, meeting his again where he had never looked away from her.

It was so hard to look away once he'd looked.

There were tears in her eyes. "More than seven thousand rain drops fell on me that day," she said. "As warm as tears."

River's brow folded and her chin trembled, and Jayne felt his gut clench in unwilling sympathy just as she rose and fled the mess, her bare feet nearly silent on Serenity's metal floors, dark hair flying out behind her. Her sketch book remained behind in the familiar silence.

He scowled.

Gently, he placed Glory on the table and reached out for the book.

The page it was opened to showed only the black outline of a girl, arms raised, palms up, twirling beneath a darkened sky. Around her, the rain fell.

He turned back a page.

Startled, he nearly dropped the book, hardly realizing he was holding it now. His own face stared out at him, unmistakable. Him, at this very table, guns spread out before him, a scowl on his face. Was this what he looked like to her? He looked so angry.

Then he remembered that he _was_ angry. Hell, for all intents and purposes, he hated the Tams – _both_ of'em, he told himself firmly.

He shook his head, turning back another page. On it, Mal's face laughed up at him, and for a thin moment, he felt a thread of what? Jealousy? What the hell for was the girl starin' at Mal's laughin' face? With a barely suppressed growl, he turned back another page.

What he saw there nearly floored him. This was him again, but him… younger.. Not much older than she was now. Hell, she'd even drawn his hair long, like he used to keep it. And that was the farm. That was the pond down near the apple trees, where he used to go for the quiet.

There was only one place she could have seen this, and that was – in his mind.

He tried to be furious – but somehow, he just couldn't. He was tired of bein' mad at her. She couldn't help everything she saw, he knew that. He thought of this place often, maybe she'd just picked up on it and found it as beautiful as he had.

For the barest moment, an unformed memory tickled at the edge of his mind, a faint and slender idea of her at that pond… then disappeared. He shook his head at the impossibility and went back to the sketch book.

He sighed. That place was long gone, now. The farm had still been sold and broken up, the apple trees were likely long cut down. He sighed. And the boy she had drawn here had become what? A hard man with a fondness for apples and no intention of ever settin' foot back on that planet again. He was too changed, the universe was a different place now.

He turned back another page.

This page was very dark, nearly every inch colored in black. But there was shapes in it, black on black it seemed like, and the the shapes, when he stared at them, could have been men. In fact, the longer he stared at the drawing, the more he made out. A… laboratory? Dark men? He wondered, if the drawing had been a painting, if the men would be wearing blue gloves. Was this a nightmare image she'd drawn, or a memory? Most like, he'd never know.

Another page back.

Here was Kaylee, but not Kaylee laughing or smiling as she usually was. Kaylee, alone in the engine room, her face turned to the workings of Serenity's engines. Kaylee with something like a … holy light in her eyes, kinda like what the preacher looked like when he was talkin' about god. Instinctively, he knew this was how Kaylee looked only when she was completely alone, and seein' her like this kinda made him feel like he was spyin' on her. He quickly turned the page.

The next one was Inara, but it was an Inara he'd never seen, and without this drawing, never would. Inara, reclining in a bed, her hair around her, wrapped in a flowing gown. She'd been drawn plainer than he'd ever seen her – thin, drawn, without make-up. She stared into the distance, her eyes meloncholy. He wondered what it meant.

There were many more drawings in the book, most of them of the people on board, often pictured as Jayne had never seen them. Some of the drawings, however, did not depict Serenity or her crew. Some of these depicted instead, laboratories. One in particular depicted a man sprawled out face-down over a table in a dark room, an even darker stain spreading from beneath his head.

There were drawings of people he didn't know. One or two might have been kids she knew at school, or at the facility that she and her brother only referred to as The Academy. That was where they had broken her, he knew that. Were these sketches of other kids that had been taken there? Most like, he'd never know.

He flipped the book shut, and went to gathering up his guns and supplies. Whatever was in that book, he told himself firmly, wasn't none of his business. Not the girl who danced in the rain, nor her school friends, nor her dark laboratory nightmares. Nor even her interest in Mal, if it existed. None of it.

He tried to ignore the fact that when he sat at this silent table with her, he felt more at peace than he had since he'd left home. Even after what she'd done to him. Because he couldn't forget the smile she'd thrown at him on Ariel or the feel of her tears on his shoulder as she'd begged him not to let the Blue Hands take her again.. Because of how she'd looked in that purple dress in the snow and how she'd felt stretched out against him inside his coat.

At the doorway, he paused and looked back at the sketchbook lying on the table, his jaw clenched. Then he stepped back, picked it up, and left the kitchen as empty as he had found it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Guilt, Sin & Apples Pt. 8**

Waitin' wasn't his strong suit. Well, of course he could wait if his life depended on it, and sometimes it did. If a man couldn't wait for trouble to come to him on his own ground, he'd be much more likely to die seekin' it out. So, yeah – he could wait like that.

But not like this. Waitin' for her to come and ask for her notebook was startin' to wear on him. It weighed on him worse than bein' on a heavy planet, where the gravity-levelers hadn't quite worked out. Sometimes it was like that on a dense planet – apparently, it was a lot easier to artificially increase gravity than to decrease it. Anyway, he never liked to go to those worlds, where he felt slow and weak, like he did now.

She never tried to catch his eye these days. He knew because he watched her, and if Mal happened to catch him watchin' her, he'd just remind Mal that she had injured him _twice _now, and he'd keep an eye on her if he damn well pleased.

Of course, that weren't the real reason at all. He wasn't even sure if he knew the real reason. He just knew better than to ask himself.

For days before the crew docked on Kaylee's home planet of Caledonia, Kaylee was even cheerier than usual. She looked forward to seeing her parents and her little sister, and had begun regaling the crew at every opportunity with stories of her youth, which was a particularly funny idea to most of the crew when they considered how young she was. However, since none of them had ever really seen her so excited about anything, most of them indulged her and asked questions about stories they had by now heard a dozen times, while smiling good-naturedly over her head. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

Jayne was still suffering the after-effects of his last adventure on Persephone, and every time he moved, he felt the stitches pulling in his belly. At night, he often lay awake, belly throbbing, his hand absently playing over the weave that still stuck to him under his shirt. He wondered if he really might have died if River hadn't come along and found him bleeding and drunk in the infirmary.

In the hours approaching landfall, everyone made their plans. Kaylee would visit with her folks while Mal, Zoe and Wash attended a meeting with a man who needed to move fresh vegetables off planet. Inara had two clients lined up, since it looked like Serenity might be moored for a few days. Simon and Book would remain aboard with River and Jayne, since River needed looking after and Jayne would still be useless in a fight for some time to come. It all seemed simple.

After hitting dirt, Kaylee didn't let any moss grow on her bootheels. She barely waited for the doors to open, and she was off with a cheery wave to the rest of the crew, who all felt somewhat like they were sending their little girl off to school for the first time. Not a man among them didn't remember their first visit back home after taking to the black, and they all knew the pride Kaylee felt in being able to return home with credits in pocket and tales to tell.

Inara made her exit quietly, as was her habit, telling only Mal when she would return to Serenity. Shortly thereafter, Mal, Zoe and Wash made their way into the small town to do their business.

Jayne was more than slightly annoyed that he had to stay behind, since Mal had made it clear to him that every day he wasn't able to work would cost him. Mal could be generous to a crew member who got themselves injured on the job, but apparently, gettin' knifed in a bar during a drunken brawl didn't count. He had tallied up Jayne's cost of care, everything from the bandages and antibiotics, to the food he ate while he recuperated. When Jayne had protested about the cost of food being added to his bill, Mal had only pointed out that while he wasn't workin' to put food on the table, it wasn't free. Jayne understood enough to know that supplies was limited, and he _was_ consumin' em. Deep down, he didn't even really resent Mal's decision that much. He did, however, resent the fact that he wasn't allowed to go along on the job today, and therefore would not be paid any of the cut.

Still, he had to admit, he wasn't quite up to snuff. He was hurtin' and he was tired, not bein' able to sleep much at night. It probably was best for him to skip this job. And as much as he wanted to get off the boat for a few hours, he knew better than to get off and then get into any trouble. Mal might just take it into his head to hire another merc, one who was smarter than him and wouldn't be thinkin' about the doc's little sister all the damn time.

Jayne wondered what she was doing since they'd landed. Kaylee was her main amusement, aside from drawin', and he wondered if she was as bored as he was. Hell, that brother of hers ought to take advantage of the fact that they were on a mostly agricultural planet, where any Alliance presence would be minimal, and take her off into the air and sun for a while. Maybe he should suggest that to the preacher, who might pass it on as his own idea, since Jayne doubted the doc was ready to take any advice from him.

As for himself, he figured it couldn't hurt nothin' if he was to sit outside of Serenity and soak up some sun.

Once he was outside, the first thing he felt was the first thing he always felt – the solidity of the dirt beneath him. Unlike some of the other members of the crew, Jayne had no true affinity for the black. He went there to make a living, and found it necessary. But he didn't love it. To him, Earth-norm gravity always felt like home, and fresh air felt like a blessing in his lungs.

He took a deep breath, shook out the plastic chair that belonged to Kaylee, and sprawled out in it, his long legs spread out before him. Turning his face up to the sun, he closed his eyes and sighed. This planet smelled good to him, clean and cool. With any luck, maybe they'd see some rain before they went. Ever since River had mentioned it in the kitchen that day, he'd been cravin' it somethin' fierce. As he'd thought of her words later, he'd tried to place when was the last time he'd been in the rain, and almost couldn't remember it. He thought of the times when he was a kid and they couldn't work in the fields because of rain. Rain had meant freedom back then, and now – now, he craved it.

A small sound alerted him that he wasn't alone, and he slitted one eye half open to see River floating down the gangplank, her chocolate colored dress blowing erratically behind her. His gut tensed like it did when he knew a fight was on , but this was different. It felt different. It felt like…fear, and something else he couldn't name, all wrapped up together.

When she reached his side, she only looked down on him, her face serene, as casual as if she hadn't avoided him for weeks since the day in the mess when she'd left her notebook.

He looked back for a moment, then deliberately closed his eye and turned his face back to the sun, containing his tension behind a cool facade. Praying she couldn't, or wouldn't, see beyond that.

"A lion in the sun," he heard her say.

He knew what she meant, but couldn't stop himself from teasing her. Hell, if he'd admit it to himself, he didn't even want to stop himself. He never did where she was concerned. "Where?" he said, lazily, eyes still closed.

When he felt a tickle on his nose, his eyes slitted open again to find her leaning over him, her long hair brushing his nose. He was reminded of the other time she had done this while he worked out. Something told him that she liked to look down on him.

His first instinct was to sit up, but he curbed it and remained where he was. "What'dya want?" he asked, trying to calm his heartbeat and breathe normally. The scent of her washed over him, and broken pictures of her as he had dreamed of her washed through his mind, inundating him with images of her white skin and dark hair and her panting breath in his ear. He might have even forgotten to sound surly.

"I'm afraid for Kaylee," she said softly, her nose only a few inches above his own. "Family is hard to lose." She smiled sadly, then stood straight and stared into the distance. "I've lost both my parents, you know."

Jayne felt a fist clench in his stomach. He sat up. "Is there somethin' wrong with Kaylee?" he asked, knowing by now not to doubt anything River said, only his ability to understand it.

She looked back into his eyes and considered him for a long moment. "No," she said finally. "Kaylee's fine." Her head tilted to the side. "But something… bad is happening." Her eyes didn't waver from his, yet he saw how they focused inward. "Nothing we can do. Too far." Tears filled her eyes. "Aren't I broken enough?" she asked.

He stood, unsure of what to do. Should he alert the preacher? Surely he'd have some idea.

Jayne took her smaller hand in his and led her back aboard Serenity, leaving Kaylee's chair sitting out in the sun by itself.

As luck would have it, he ran across the doc before he could find the preacher, and the fact that River's hand was engulfed in his own made him uncomfortable enough to try to pull away. She, of course, wouldn't have it. She had none of the playfulness about her that he might of expected from a trick like that, though - when he looked down at her, she looked… scared.

His hand tightened around hers.

He spoke before Simon could say anything about their entwined hands. "Hey, Doc," he said. "River says there's somethin' wrong with Kaylee, or… Kaylee's okay, but…" He looked down at River, hoping she would speak, but she only looked at him entreatingly. Wanting _him_ to say it. He took a breath. "Somethin' to do with her… family?" His statement ended on a question, mostly because he knew he had no idea what he was saying.

Simon looked at River, concerned. "Are you sure that you're not just – imagining…?"

Jayne shook his head impatiently. "Damn it, Doc," he said, not bothering to try and hide his irritation. "When're you gonna learn?" he asked. "Don't it seem pretty obvious that yer sister's got – I dunno – what they used to call 'The Sight'?"

Simon only glanced at him impatiently before refocusing intently on River. "Are you sure?" he asked.

River only nodded miserably.

Simon tensed. "Will there be anything I can… do?" He looked vaguely hopeful.

She only shrugged, her eyes as helpless as his.

Jayne sighed, frustrated. What was the damn use in knowin' somethin' bad was about to happen if you couldn't do nothin' about it?

River's big brown eyes fixed on his. "It's so we can be ready," she said sadly.

"Ready to what, River?" Simon asked.

She only stared down at the steel floor under her feet, saying nothing more.

The news, when it came, wasn't much of a surprise.

Zoe called in to Serenity, only telling the Shepherd that she and Mal and Wash had been delayed. When they showed up a few hours later, they were solemn-eyed and quiet. Without being summoned, everyone gathered at the large table in Serenity's mess to hear what had happened.

Mal looked around at the assembled group, and his eyes narrowed. "Y'all wanna tell me how y'all seem to know somethin's goin' on?" he asked.

Book was the first to speak. He nodded toward River. "She knows it's about Kaylee, and it isn't good. That's all we know." He paused. "Is… Kaylee alright?"

Mal only shrugged. "Well," he said, "what's happened ain't nothin' anyone here would want to happen in their own family, but it ain't so bad that we got to avoid sayin' what it is, if you know what I mean."

Jayne couldn't help himself. "But – she's alright?"

The captain nodded. "She's alright. But she's lost some family, and that's always hard. We're gonna be here for a couple more days, and we're gonna all attend her brother's funeral, day after tomorrow. Hopefully, Kaylee's still plannin' on shippin' out with us afterwards, cause we ain't got a chance in hell of getting' a mechanic as good as her if she don't."

Simon spoke next. "Uh.. brother?" he asked. "I don't remember Kaylee ever mentioning that she had a brother."

"Older. Born angry." This was River.

"Seems unlikely, considerin' Kaylee's sweet ways," the preacher put in, only to be cut off by Zoe's head shaking.

"Who knows? Maybe Kaylee got all the happy genes in the family. The point is, he was Kaylee's brother, and she loved him, and he's dead now."

Book asked the next obvious question. "Do we.. know what happened?" he asked tentatively.

It was Mal who answered, while Zoe and Wash just looked solemn. "The brother had a habit he couldn't handle, had debts he couldn't deal with. He kidnapped Kaylee's little sister and tried to sell her back to their parents for enough money to get him off-planet. He threatened to sell the girl to some other buyer if the parents didn't pay. Kaylee's father – shot him."

"Oh." Shepherd Book's reply pretty much encompassed the reaction of all of them.

"Kind of.. I don't know…boggles the mind, doesn't it?" Wash asked, including the room in general in his question. "Just doesn't seem possible that Kaylee – sweet, lovable Kaylee – could come from a family like that, does it?"

"Is her father in any legal trouble?" Simon asked, and the question startled Jayne, because such a thing hadn't even crossed his mind.

Zoe shook her head. "Law seems to be on his side," she said. "But it's still gonna be mighty difficult for Kaylee to come to terms with."

Another moment of silence passed, then Simon said, "I want to go to where she is. Is that possible? Can someone here take me there?"

Mal and Zoe looked at each other, then Zoe transferred her gaze to Wash. "Can you take Simon?" she asked softly, her voice taking on that tone that it took on only when she spoke to him. Wash only nodded, then looked at Simon.

"Are you ready to go now?" he asked.

"Just let me grab my bag," Simon replied, "in case there's something I can do for someone."

Wash nodded. "I'll get the Mule up and runnin', then," he said, standing. He squeezed his wife's shoulder, as he walked past her. "I'll be back as soon as I can be," he told her.

She only nodded.

As he passed Book, Simon hesitated, but before he could say anything, Book spoke reassuringly. "Don't worry about a thing," he said with a small smile. "I'll keep my eye on her while you're gone. You go now."

Simon nodded, then looked back at River, standing beside Jayne. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he told her. She only nodded, and he gave her a long look before turning and following Wash out of the mess.

Mal sighed. "Well," he said, "I'll be in my berth, finishing up the last details of our business dealings. Zoe, I'll need you." She nodded, and the two of them exited as well, leaving only Book, Jayne and River in the kitchen.

When River turned to the hatch, Book smiled at her. "And where will you be, in case I'd like to have a word with you later, or call you to dinner?"

She looked at him solemnly. "I'm going to go get my notebook," she said, quite lucidly. "I will return for dinner."

Book smiled again, thinking that drawing would be a good distraction for the girl, whose company (he didn't mind admitting to himself and God) had made him more than a little nervous since the time she had "reassured" him that time that he wouldn't die gasping.

"Well, that's just fine," he said. "I'll see about finding us something good to eat tonight, then, shall I?"

River, unconcerned with such things as politeness, had already turned away and headed for Jayne's bunk.

Jayne, meanwhile, while admittedly not the brightest bulb in the box, had understood what River was saying quite clearly, as if she had seared it into his skin as she said it. He just didn't know what to do. Let her go to his bunk and get the book? He rejected this idea as quickly as it occurred. She couldn't be allowed into his bunk alone – there was too many weapons there, too many things he didn't want her to dig through or get into. There was a stack of pornography sittin' on the shelf in plain sight, and she'd see it if she got to goin' through his stuff.

He took as step backward. "Yeah, uh.. I got some things ta.. you know.. take care of, myself," he said. "I'll, uh.. see ya at supper, I reckon."

The shepherd, who was already headed for the cupboards, looked up enquiringly. "Sure you don't want help me out and chop some things for me?"

Jayne took another step backward. "Sure wish I could," he said. "But, uh.. I got…you know, things…"

And without another word, he turned and ducked through the hatch, headed for his bunk at top speed.

Book shook his head. He'd noticed more than once that Jayne was quite fond of Kaylee, though he knew the big mercenary would never admit as much. He must be more worried for her than he wanted anyone to know.

Jayne, knowing that the captain and Zoe was unlikely to be in the passages, ran to his bunk as if Reavers was chasin' him through the corridors. Still, when he got there, the hatch was already open, and he wasted no time descending the ladder. He found River sitting on the floor, crosslegged… drawing in her sketchbook.

Her hair fell over her shoulder, almost long enough to drag on the page. She didn't look up as he descended the ladder, just kept drawing.

Now that he was here, Jayne didn't know what to do. He stood there for a moment, then took a step toward her. "You can't be in here," he said, not surly, just factual.

She looked up at him, tilted her head to the side. Then she looked back at the page she was drawing on. "Can't _be_ anywhere," she answered, her voice soft.

He took another step toward her, not understanding her words, but not expecting to. "Yeah. But – you really can't be here," he repeated. He had to get her out of there before the captain or Zoe found out.

"Don't worry," she said. "No one will know. You won't get in trouble." She looked up, her gaze met his squarely. "I promise."

Jayne was drawn a step closer by her voice, and a desire to see what she was drawing. "River," he said, his voice nearly as soft as hers. "You gotta take your sketch book and git on out of here, now."

She didn't look up. "Why did you keep it?' she asked.

He shrugged, stepping even closer. "You left it in the kitchen," he said. "Just thought I'd give it back to ya when I saw ya, and just… never did."

"No," she said, still drawing. "You wanted me to come." Her eyes met his again, and he was suddenly surprised to find himself standing nearly over her. "You wanted me," she said.

Staring down at her, he knew the uselessness of lying, and it nearly made him angry. A man had a right to his own thoughts, and his defenses, didn't he? And yet, since she had pressed the clone child's thoughts into his head, he understood something of what it was to be her, and he didn't know if he would ever be able to be truly angry with her again. He surprised himself by squatting before her, and putting his hand over her drawing hand.

When her eyes met his again, he gazed into them, closer than he ever had before. "You can_not_ be here," he said again, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. "It's dangerous."

Her eyes began to fill with tears and Jayne felt that clench in his guts again. He glanced down at the page she had been drawing on, only to see a picture of an unfamiliar girl there. Trying to distract her, he said, "Who's this?"

She glanced down at the drawing. "It's … Kaylee's sister," she said, as one tear traced down her cheek. "She's only fourteen – the same age I was when – when I was River Tam."

He frowned. "You're still River Tam," he said, wondering what she meant.

She bit her lip, then swiped her hand under her nose, leaving a dark smudge on her upper lip from the pencil she had been using. "No," she said, her eyes dipping into his. "I – I am the River that flows forth from the girl who was River Tam," she said, then sobbed in earnest, her hand over her mouth. "I am not that child – she's dead, just as this girl is dead now, too – don't you see?"

No, he didn't see, and he was frustrated as hell. He didn't know what to do with a crying crazy girl… hell, he couldn't even call nobody because she couldn't be found in his bunk! Damn it!

Suddenly, she wilted forward and leaned her cheek on his heavy thigh, and snuffled again. Without thinking, he stroked his hand down her back, feeling every rib under his hand. He frowned. The damn girl needed to eat, he thought. He looked down at her and felt defeated. "Why you always gotta come cry on me, crazy girl?" he asked her wryly, then stroked his hand over her hair. "Don't you know I ain't got no experience with cryin' girls? I don't even know what to do, or say. You know that, right?"

She sat up, and his palm found her wet cheek, his thumb brushed over her cheekbone, then gently rubbed away the dark smear over her upper lip.

Her eyes were miserable. "I hurt," she nearly whispered.

He frowned. "I ain't no doctor," he said. "I can't help you." Yet his hand still caressed her face.

She rose to her knees as he still squatted before her, his own knees splayed, and leaned her cheek against his chest. Her eyes closed. Jayne froze, not knowing what to do. "Put your arms around me," she instructed, and without thought, he obeyed her, even though he knew they were playing with fire. "Tighter," she said dreamily, and he closed his arms around her, one arm clamped around her waist, the other wrapped around her shoulders. Her own arms wrapped firmly around his back.

She felt so… small against him. Somehow he hadn't remembered that from the time he'd held her inside his coat in the cold, or the time he'd carried her to the medlab. How could she be so small?

She sighed, then said softly, "There's silence inside you," she said clearly, "a place for tears. Here, there is no Wash and Zoe, no Mal and Inara, no Simon and Kaylee. Here, there is only Jayne, who once was a boy who would have liked the girl who once was River Tam…"

His grip tightened on her even more for an instant. "I don't understand what you're sayin'" he said, "but I guess I don't really need to." He leaned back and wrapped his hands around her upper arms, then stood, and pulled her with him. "I… I can't be the one you come to when you're cryin'," he said, feelin' cruel as he said it. "You gotta go to… your brother, or – Inara. Even Mal," he told her. "But not to me, do you understand?"

Her eyes searched into his. "My pain becomes your pain," she said softly.

He shook his head. "That ain't it," he said. "It just ain't right, that's all."

She stood on her toes, pulled his head down to whisper in his ear, and he didn't resist, his hands still wrapped around her arms.

Her breath was moist in his ear, and he shivered as she whispered. "Shared pain is less," she said, her voice as wise and innocent as the stones of Earth That Was. "And shared pleasure is more."

And with that, she turned her head and despite all his best intentions, he met her halfway, his mouth on hers before he had a chance to consider the consequences. He broke before her like a dam waiting for one more drop of rain. All he knew was that he was on fire for her, and it felt like he always had been, as if every woman he'd ever had, had been practice for this. For her. Tasting her felt like coming home.

She arched into him, and his arms clamped around her, lifting her off the floor. Her legs wrapped around him, unhesitating, as if the two of them had rehearsed for this moment a thousand times. His mouth never left hers as he shifted one arm to support her bottom, then buried the other hand in her hair, turned her head so that he could taste her more deeply. When she groaned, he nearly came out of his skin, that feline purr echoing into him as if it had maybe come from him in the first place.

In his mind's eye. He suddenly saw her at the pond back on the old place, her hand on his chest, her eyes full of sorrow. He pulled his mouth from hers and stared down into her eyes.

"You've been wandering around in my head," he said huskily. "I told you not to do that, didn't I?"

"Minds wander in sleep," she said. "My mind wanders, too." She looked up at him, all innocence and seduction. Then, she stretched up, put her mouth on his again, and he groaned, all pretense of resistance given up as her legs tightened around him.

Without really knowing how it happened, he found himself kneeling on his bunk, River still wrapped around him like a vine to a tree. His mouth broke contact with hers as he lowered her to the bunk, then he buried his mouth in her throat, tasting her there as he had dreamed so many times. Her skin was smooth as silk under his tongue, and tasted of apples, as he'd known it would.

She gave a kittenish mew and twisted against him, running her hands up under his shirt and grinding her hips against him in unabashed invitation.

He groaned. He wanted to go slow, but –

She pulled his shirt over his head impatiently, and before he could lean back down to capture her mouth again, she leaned forward and bit him, her teeth sinking into the flesh just beneath his collarbone.

He grunted and pulled back, but the small pain only made him harder, and he began unbuttoning the back of her dress urgently, his hands busy behind her as his blue eyes stared down into her brown ones. She traced the bite mark she had left on his chest with her fingers, then leaned up and ran her tongue along the cord in his neck, and he groaned, finally pushing the material of her dress over her shoulder and baring one small breast.

Her fingers played lightly over the weave on his stomach, and she looked softly up into his eyes. _::you could have died::_

He heard it plain as speakin' in his head, but was far too distracted by her near nakedness to care.

It occurred to him then that she was too small, too fragile, to be under him, so he wrapped his hands around her ribs and reversed their positions, pulling her over him like a blanket, then raised her up so that her breast was within reach. She arched against him as he tasted her there, and mewed again as she writhed against him, her hands in his hair.

He pushed the dress down around her waist, finding that she wore nothing under it but a pair of plain, white panties, which he found unbearably erotic. His hands slid down the cool skin of her back, to cup her buttocks as she slid down and pressed herself firmly against him. He groaned and dug his fingers into the backs of her thighs.

She put her mouth to his, pushed her tongue inside and bit his bottom lip as he cupped her hip in one hand. Then she sat back and reached for the fastening to his pants.

He slid one hand into her panties, and she froze.

For a moment, he thought he'd done something wrong, until she rocked against his hand, her eyes closed, her head back. He nearly came just from the look on her face as he slid one, then two fingers into her wetness.

His pants were forgotten as her hands clenched on her thighs, and she rode his hand unselfconsciously, absorbing pleasure as a sponge absorbs water. He touched her with his thumb and she gasped, her hands clenching and unclenching. As he watched her, he realized in some haphazard fashion that she was right. Pleasure shared _was _more. Her pleasure _was_ his pleasure – just as her pain became his, also.

She leaned forward, pressing harder on his hand, and Jayne gave her want she wanted, twisting his hand against her. She gasped, and her eyes fluttered open to fasten on his. If he'd thought watching her before was erotic, this unashamed meeting of eyes while she took the pleasure of his hand her nearly broke him. She bucked against him, breathing hard. Finally she gasped and twisted her hips one last time, her eyelids fluttering, then collapsed against him, panting heavily.

Only a moment later, her lips found his again as he pulled at her panties, then finally ripped them to get them off her. Not a word was spoken as she reached again for his pants, and when he finally sprang free of them in the coolness of the room, he felt as if lightning was sizzling along his nerve endings.

She took him in her hand, staring down at him. Then she slid down and tasted him, as if she'd done it a thousand times. He gasped, pulling her back up. "Not this time, princess," he panted, his hands on her hips. "You just hold onto that thought, though," he said huskily, with a hint of humor.

Instead, he rubbed her wetness against him, and stared up into her eyes as he began to push into her. As he entered her, her eyes slowly closed and she wriggled slightly against him, accommodating his size. He panted as she slowly began to ride him, and relaxed when he realized that she felt no pain.

_She'd done this before, then._ He filed that thought away somewhere in the back of his mind.

He tried to hold off as long as he could, wanting her to come again before he did, and he began to encourage her. "That's right baby," he panted up to her, his hands on her hips. "Oh, yeah, girl, you do it just like that – oh, _wuh de ma_ -"

Then he pulled her down, his hand in her hair, and took her mouth with his, thrusting up against her with everything that was in him. Suddenly, she stiffened, clenched around him and cried out into his mouth. With one more powerful thrust he spilled himself into her as the room seemed to go black around them…

For a long moment, Jayne just lay there, River clutched to his chest, her heart pounding against his. Her hair spread out over the two of them, and he absently brushed his hand over it, smoothing it down her back.

"…Are you… okay?" he finally asked as his heart and his breath slowed, looking down at the top of her head.

She sat up, and he slid out of her, still half-hard.

She stared into his eyes. "Are you?" she asked.

He laced his arms behind his head. "Well, you nearly gave me a damn heart attack, but yeah… I'm alright." He considered the bare metal ceiling of his room, then said, "Of course, now Mal will kill me, and I'll go straight to hell for this, but – for now – I'm okay."

Her face was solemn. "Mal will not be allowed to hurt you," she said. Then she turned and picked her dress up from the floor. As she leaned forward, her vertabrae pressed against her skin, and Jayne gently ran his fingers down her back.

"You should eat more," he said, and she tossed a partial smile at him over her shoulder as she pulled the dress over her head, then turned and presented her back to him, waiting for him to button the dress for her.

He sat up and gathered her hair, pushing it over her shoulder. Then he surprised himself by kissing the back of her long neck. "You're beautiful," he growled softly in her ear, wrapping one arm around her and pressing his chest to the length of her bare back. Then he buttoned up her dress, all business as she stared back over her shoulder at him, her eyes unreadable.

"Shepherd Book will serve dinner soon," she said.

"I know," he said, hitching up the britches he was still wearing. He sighed. Hell, he was still wearin' his boots.

Her eyes searched forward, as if she could see the whole of the ship from his room, then she said, "Mal and Zoe will be there, and the shepherd. Soon, Simon and Kaylee and Wash will come home," she said, "and… maybe one more."

This interested him. "Who?" he asked.

She turned and smiled her sad smile at him. "Loren," she said. "Kaylee's sister."

Jayne sat up straighter, pulling his shirt back over his head. "Nah," he said, "Cap'n would never allow it. This ain't no nursery, and Kaylee ain't bringin' no more little girls on board – you saw how it worked out last time."

River shrugged, still staring into space.

Jayne looked at her for a moment, then – "You know somethin' you ain't sayin', little witch?"

She looked back at him as she stood up. "There are many ways to say," she said, that mysterious smile on her lips.

She was up the ladder and gone before he could answer.


End file.
